Breakdown
by Beatrice Benedick
Summary: A mystery challenge @ MGSG: A murder had occurred at MODE and Gio is caught in the middle of the events that are yet to unfold. Who is the killer?
1. Cast of Characters

**Continuing the June Festivities. This is another answer to those famous Livia challenges at the modegirl-sandwichguy (getty) forums. This goes to Foxy. Happy Belated Birthday!**

Crime Mystery Series: M for Murrrderrr

**BREAKDOWN**

—0—

Cast of Characters

**Giovanni Rossi**, owner of a modest deli restaurant in Manhattan. Son of Italian immigrants, he's smart, passionate and often too headstrong for his own good. He still has feelings for Betty Suarez with whom he shared a brief relationship in the past.

**Betty Suarez**, Features Editor of MODE, a New York based fashion Magazine. She used to be Daniel Meade's assistant. A perky and capable but a little naïve Latina from Queens, Betty has struggled the underdog battle since she started working at MODE, five years ago. She's in a relationship with Matt Hartley.

**Daniel Meade**, youngest son of late Bradford Meade. Prominent bachelor and socialite, his reputation precedes him all over Manhattan. He's particularly known by the ladies in his office and most supermodels of every catwalk in the fashion industry. He currently holds the position of Editor-in-Chief of MODE.

**Claire Meade**, mother of Daniel and major stockholder of Meade Publications. She was once convicted for murder but later absolved after serving a few months of prison time. She was romantically involved with Cal Hartley when she was younger.

**Wilhelmina Slater**, former Creative Director of MODE. She was replaced by Matt Hartley. She currently is a Creative Consultant of the magazine. One of the best names in the fashion business in New York, she's ruthless and extremely ambitious.

**Calvin Hartley**, eccentric billionaire tycoon of New York. He devotes himself to extreme sports and hobbies, like keeping an expensive large collection of weapons and armory. He rescued MODE from bankruptcy a year ago but there are rumors he ultimately wants to take over the whole Meade Empire.

**Victoria Hartley**, mother of Matt Hartley. She's haughty and elitist and moves inside the highest social circles of New York. She has taken a sudden interest in her ex-husband's investment in MODE. She's very particular about her son's latest involvement with Betty, a girl she considers below their station.

**Elizabeth Leigh**, illegitimate child of Mr. Hartley's late sister. She recently moved to New York from Seattle and works as assistant to Daniel Meade at MODE. She's cold, determined and opinionated but keeps most of the times to herself. She regards Cal Hartley as if he were her own father.

**Matt Hartley**, only son of Mr. Hartley, he's the current Creative Director of MODE. He had pursued many careers and recently studied at the Young Editors Training Initiative Program where he met Betty and later became her boyfriend. He has a special fascination in serial killers and shares his father's interest in spy and murderous weapons.

**Marc St. James**, Wilhelmina Slater's assistant. He's very efficient in his job and loyal to his boss. He lost his promotion over Betty, despite his exceeding qualifications for the position. He's habitually seen in the company of Amanda Tanen, the only person he truly trusts.

**Amanda Tanen**, receptionist of MODE. She seems to know about everything and everyone at the office. Her main skills, gossiping and an impeccable fashion sense, aren't sufficient for her to climb up the job ladder.

**Maurizo Rossi**, part owner of Gio's Deli. He has great admiration for the achievements of his young cousin and treats him as if they were brothers. He spent the early years of his life in Italy so he speaks English with an accent that makes him quite popular with the ladies.

**Detective Averaimo**, homicide detective. His reputation of being tough and cold-blooded equals his status as one the handsomest members of the New York Police Department.

**Pietro Vitelli**, police officer and former high school friend of Gio Rossi. In order to get into the Criminal Investigation Unit, he slaves himself working under the command of detective Averaimo.

**Jenny Vitelli**, accountant of Meade Publications. She has an affair with a guy at the office but keeps it secret from her older brother Pietro.

-0-

Soundtrack:

I would do anything for love _by_ Meat Loaf

Be with you _by _Magnet

Stockholm syndrome _by_ Muse

Lyrics:

**Meat Loaf — I would do anything for love (but I won't do that)**

And I would do anything for love  
I'd run right into hell and back  
I would do anything for love  
I'd never lie to you and that's a fact  
But I'll never forget the way you feel right now,  
Oh no, no way  
And I would do anything for love, but I won't do that  
No, I won't do that

And some days it don't come easy  
And some days it don't come hard  
Some days it don't come at all, and these are the days that never end  
And some nights you're breathing fire  
And some nights you're carved in ice  
Some nights you're like nothing I've ever seen before or will again

Maybe I'm crazy, but it's crazy and it's true  
I know you can save me, no-one else can save me now but you

As long as the planets are turning  
As long as the stars are burning  
As long dreams are coming true  
You'd better believe it, that I would do

Anything for love, oh I would do anything for love  
And I would do anything for love, but I won't do that  
No, I won't do that

I would do anything for love  
Anything you've been dreaming of, but I just won't do that  
I would do anything for love  
Anything you've been dreaming of, but I just won't do that

Some days I pray for silence  
Some days I pray for soul  
Some days I just pray to the god of sex and drums and rock `n` roll

Maybe I'm lonely, that's all I'm qualified to be  
That's just one and only, the one and only promise I can keep

As long as the wheels are turning  
As long as the fires are burning  
As long as your prayers are coming true  
You'd better believe it, that I would do…

Anything for love  
And you know it's true and that's a fact  
I would do anything for love, and there'll never be no turning back  
But I'll never do it better than I do it with you. So long, so long  
I would do anything for love  
Oh, I would do anything for love  
Oh, I would do anything for love, but I won't do that  
No, I won't do that

Will you raise me up? Will you help me down?  
Will you get me right out of this godforsaken town?  
Will you make it all a little less cold?

Will you cater to every fantasy I got?  
Will you hose me down with holy water, if I get too hot?  
Will you take me places I've never known?

I know the territory, I've been around  
It'll all turn to dust and we'll all fall down  
Sooner or later you'll be screwing around

I won't do that  
No, I won't do that

**Magnet — Be with you**

I'm so excited, I just can't sleep  
I'm so delighted, we should finally meet  
I've always had a feeling you would show  
And leave me here in your afterglow

Just so I can be with you  
And I'll know how it feels for me  
To live like you do  
And to die like you, too  
I wanna be with you  
So I'll know how it feels for me  
To live like you do  
Darling, please let me be with you  
Please, let me be with you

This is not the time or place for patience  
Cause this can not be stalled or stopped  
An entire planet focus overdrive  
And I feel my senses come alive  
like any bullet, I'm a virgin, on my way

…to be with you

And to know how it feels for me  
To live like you do  
and to die like you, too  
yeah I wanna be with you  
So I'll know how it feels for me  
To live like you do  
So please, let me be with you  
Yeah, please let me be with you  
Please, let me be with you

**Muse — Stockholm syndrome **

I won't stand in your way  
Let your hatred grow  
And she'll scream  
And she'll shout  
And she'll pray  
And she had a name  
Yeah she had a name

But I won't hold you back  
Let your anger rise  
And we'll fly  
And we'll fall  
And we'll burn  
No one will recall  
No one will recall

This is the last time I'll abandon you  
And this is the last time I'll forget you  
I wish I could

Look to the stars  
Let hope grow in your eyes  
And we'll love  
And we'll hate  
And we'll die  
All to no avail  
All to no avail

This is the last time I'll abandon you  
And this is the last time I'll forget you  
I wish I could

This is the last time I'll abandon you  
And this is the last time I'll forget you  
I wish I could  
I wish I could


	2. Chapter 1

**BREAKDOWN**

— Chapter I —

I opened the door and the sight in front of me was horrifying. There she was, the woman I loved, kneeling on the floor … those beautiful hands covered with blood.

As usual in me, my first reaction was to save her, to grab the weapon out of her hands and take the blame.

But she stopped me.

"No! I did it. Don't come any closer" she cried and I obeyed; her words stinging inside of me. Then, she whispered "I'm sorry."

The world crashed around me and whatever future I had dreamed with her crumbled into pieces before my very eyes. I cursed aloud blaming that fateful day I decided to set my feet back into MODE.

—0—

"Man!"

I said as I woke up and found out I've been sleeping in the backroom of my deli.

My head was killing me and my lips were dry. It had been happening a lot in the past weeks. I kept blaming the new bar that opened just around the corner. Yeah, most of the times I woke up with a heavy hangover, without the slightest idea of where I was or had been the night before. But I think I had other reasons that kept me under constant stress: at least three women have been found death in suspicious circumstances around the vicinities in the past few weeks and it got me worried. I had forbidden my little sister, Antonella, to come visit me in Manhattan until the whole deal was resolved. The worse part was that I knew at least two of the victims. The moment I saw their pictures in the newspaper, I recognized them. They were frequent clients of Gio's Deli.

I tumbled to the bathroom and worked my way to decency. I had a quick shower, enough to wash away the stupor and the fogginess from my head and my body. I dressed back the jeans I had worn and hunted down a clean shirt from the dresser but couldn't find any razor… damn it! My clients would have to bear me with the stubble.

"Clients!" I jumped as I realized the time it was and rushed to the Deli front.

Maurizio was already there taking care of the first customers. He gave me a look.

"_Ciao, addormentato belezza_" he placed a newspaper and a wrapped bagel at a table. "Sit here and have a coffee. I have everything under control."

I knew I did right asking my cousin to become my partner. Now that we have purchased the place next-door and we have expanded Gio's Deli into a little restaurant. This has kept me entertained for these two years since I returned from Rome with my new flavor and renewed dreams… and a broken heart.

There I was again thinking about Betty Suarez. As if two years weren't enough to heal my wound. I had tried to stay away from her as much as I could. I stopped going around Mode about a year ago. There was no reason anymore. I still got the occasional deliveries and I could hang around with Daniel Meade in social events. He was a good friend.

As if fate wasn't content enough with my torment, just besides me, at a nearby table, were two of workers from the Meade Building. I instinctively focused my attention on their conversation. They were excited about a recent event that had just happened: another murder, a top executive at Mode.

My heart stopped.

I wanted to believe the first thing that came to my mind was Daniel Meade. But that would be a lie. I only thought about one person and one person only.

I grabbed my jacket and ran my way across the two blocks that separated me from the Meade Building. I hurried like a madman to the lobby. I was friends with the porter and he let me in without question. Right on the entrance of the Mode floor I spotted Amanda, the receptionist, and her friend Marc. I walked slowly trying to overhear their conversation.

"I don't know why they keep us here, Marc. I want to go home" she cried in her friend's shoulders.

"There… there… Mandy. Everything is going to be alright"

"How can it be alright? Cal Hartley has been shot. Right here in the office!" she cried. "It could have been any of us!"

"Hey you" a man dressed in police uniform stopped me. "What business you have here".

I quickly explained that I was friends with Daniel Meade. He made me sign my name in a sheet of paper and stripped me from my cellphone a few minutes after my belt, bracelet and ring gave him a bit of struggle with the metal detector. Then, he let me free.

I knew my way. The offices were a bit empty because it was early morning. I could sense the look of distress in the faces of the shallow workers of Mode. I usually despised them but, that morning, I felt a bit of pity for them.

I finally spotted Daniel. He was Betty's boss. Two women were standing beside him. I recognized them. One was Wilhelmina Slater, famous executive of the famous magazine, and the other one must've been Victoria Hartley. I've seen her before, at least in pictures. Betty used to talk to me about her, a year ago when she frequented my Deli and talked about everything. Her "mother-in-law", she used to call her… I tightened my teeth suppressing the feeling I once had that Betty would one day call my mother so. But instead, she abandoned love for money. It was a shame to realize what my dear sweet Betty became after she met the Hartleys. I disliked most rich people but I hated the Hartleys the most.

I felt tempted to go to Daniel and ask him about his assistant, and about the whole situation in the office but he gave me a quick look and I knew I would have to talk to him later. Then, Mrs. Hartley turned to my direction and gave a good look at me. Not even a single tear in her eyes or the slightest hint of consternation in her face. In fact, she seemed bothered to be standing around there. She looked at me as you would look a tiny insect, someone who didn't even have the right to breathe the same air she was breathing.

I put on my most polite smile on my lips and gave her an acknowledging nod.

I walked pass them to the place where I knew I would find Betty's desk. I knew the way with my eyes closed. Last year I used to walk those alleys once or twice a day just to visit her, just to be around her. And now, once again, my feet carried me automatically to her; drawn to her like a magnet. I had to find out she was all right.

I could see in the back the room that lead to Daniel Meade's office across the transparent panel that welcomed to the place where Betty worked. I stopped. A few meters in front of me I noticed a long red haired woman standing still in the entrance, immobile; probably looking at some point in front of her. She wore a smart suit and high heels that added some inches to her tall figure. I could only see her back but something about her staying there made her look suspicious to me.

I heard some footsteps from behind and then I saw what I've been looking for: Betty Suarez. I tried to ignore the awful clownish dress she was wearing but I couldn't divert my eyes from her face. My arms opened mechanically as I turned to her encounter.

"Betty…" I said and thought of million words to comfort her.

She didn't even look at me. She walked by, almost pushing me away, as if I didn't exist, and ran to the encounter of Matt Hartley. He was the tall fellow that took her heart from me. I saw her hug him desperately and whisper soothing words. I stood there immobile just watching the scene.

Betty didn't need of me anymore. Now it was different. Everything was ruined. All hopes of loving went busted the minute the Hartleys entered Mode. I could compete fair and square with an accountant but, against a billionaire I was pretty much a zero.

I heard a grunt and I remembered the woman that was standing beside me. I finally gave a glance to her. She was beautiful and she definitely had class, I could notice that much. She had crystal clear transparent gray eyes surrounded by tears that ruined her make up. Her face was disfigured in a mixture of pain and anger. She was staring at Betty and Matt. It was then when she realized my presence and gasped, awakening from her trance.

She didn't say a word and ran away with quick steps. I followed her with my eyes until she disappeared from my sight.

_To be continued..._

Notes:

Ciao, addormentato belezza = (it.) Hello, sleeping beauty.


	3. Chapter 2

BREAKDOWN

— Chapter II —

"Murderer!" a female voice broke. I didn't want to overhear but the voice had been too loud for me to prevent it.

The sound of slapping in the nearby office made me stop and I froze, moving further would only reveal my position as a shameless eavesdropper. I refused to return on my tracks. At my back, on the next alley, Betty melted in the arms of another man. I wasn't sure I could bear that sight, anymore. All her attention, only to him…

The sound of something breaking caught my attention. The voice continued.

"Only you would plot something as abominable as this. Oh, yes. The police will know about this. You just wanted to have everything or nothing, didn't you?"

I finally recognized it: Daniel's mother, Claire Meade.

A moment of awkward silence made me wonder if it was wiser to walk away or just stay there were I was standing. Then, another voice spoke, in such a glacial tone that sent chills through my spine.

"Claire, Claire… is old age already creeping in? Are you forgetting _our_ little secret? If you ever try to sink me down with your pathetic tears, I will have no choice but to reveal everything away" that was definitely Wilhelmina Slater. "Oh, poor dear, take this. You better fix that face now that Victoria is here. You don't want her to look at you in such… pathetic shape."

Damn it!

I heard the sound of heels, as if coming out of the office. I instinctively took a step back but I really didn't really know which way to go.

"Giovanni Rossi?"

A hand touched my shoulders.

I gasped. I was caught. I turned and faced the one behind me.

"Gio! It is you!" the person said and gave me a tight friendly hug. "Man! it's been years"

Pietro Vitelli, a friend from high school, partner in mischief, back in those days I used to skip classes and get lost causing havoc all over the neighborhood. Same old Pietro Vitelli, a bit fatter and balder, now he wore the badge and the blue uniform of a local police officer.

Wilhelmina Slater walked our way and stopped right next to us. She gave a quick glance to Pietro and said in a strong voice that didn't even pretend to be gentle. "So when is this mess going to be picked up?"

Pietro assured her that very soon. Just like cops always did. She was obviously not pleased. Then, she looked at me as if it was the first time she'd seen me. I bet she didn't recognize my face even thought I used to come here every single day for almost two years.

"I need this place ready as soon as possible. We are Mode. We are can't afford to get distracted by something like… a murder."

"I understand" answered Pietro, eyeing her with those unabashed eyes that must have heard and seen everything in life. "We're already done with Matt Hartley. Next is…" He looked to his notes. "Mrs. Claire Meade."

"Good" Wilhelmina said. "She's there in my office. I wouldn't mind if you… roughen her up a little".

"We don't do that kind of thing, Miss Slater."

"Too bad" she said and walked out in her peculiar regal way, full of confidence and determination.

Pietro gave an almost inaudible soft whistle and spent a couple of seconds looking how her body swayed away, wrapped in that very tight red dress until she disappeared. Then, he turned back to me.

"What the hell are you doing in this place?! Do you work in here?"

I passed a hand through the roughness of my stubble. "Nah! I just happened to come in. I own a deli just two blocks from here. How about you! Man! A cop now? Who'd have guessed?"

"I'm a new man now. This is my last month of duty. I'm working my way to join the Criminal investigation Department. Passed all test. That's why I'm working with that slave driver asshole Detective Averaimo."

"Vitelli!" yelled a man. Two other uniformed officers stood on each of his flanks."Did you make sure nobody leaves the building?"

I eyed him carefully. He quickly caught my eye and looked at me as if examining me. But that only last a second he looked back to my friend, Pietro. I felt a bit intimidated. I wish I could have taken a bit of time to dress more properly. Even to comb my hair. The guy in front of me wore a smart suit, impeccable cleaned shoes. I bet he was popular with the ladies: carefully tanned, fair face with clear latino features and strong built... teeth so white it was distracting. Made me consider whitening my own.

"I did, sir" Pietro answered and cleared his throat. "Mrs. Claire Meade is waiting."

The person facing him just raised an eyebrow and, without saying a word, walked to the office right in front of us.

"Is that him?" I asked Pietro watching the man and his intimidating entourage enter the office.

"Yeah, that's him. I better go check the entrance."

"I'll go with you." I said and followed him. He didn't took the alley where Betty and Matt were. It was some sort of a relief. I spoke after a moment. "So, isn't this Hartley some sort of super millionaire? How did he die?"

Pietro laughed. "Money he's got, all right. A pistol wound. Three shots. Definitely not suicide. This is going to be huge. I'm surprised press ain't here already. Or the Feds… hell, probably the Swiss Guard will come that door any minute —Hey! ".

Pietro ran forward. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

The same woman I saw before, the redhead of the gray crystal eyes stood in front of the elevator.

"I just wanted to get some breakfast." She said in a clear and well modulated voice.

"Nobody leaves the building, miss. I'm sorry." Pietro said and guided her gently by the arm. She made a movement and set herself free.

"This is unnecessary. I understand, officer."

Pietro then yelled to the officer that was reading a magazine sitting in the receptionist chair.

My eyes diverted to those gorgeous legs coming out of her clean cut suit dress. She caught me looking and frowned but, to my surprise, she came straight to me.

At that moment, that I had her right in front of me, I noticed she had too many freckles in her face and was too tall and skinny for my taste. But there was just something about her that was alluring, I just couldn't tell… besides the stunning legs, of course.

"I'm sorry. I saw you earlier. You might think I was being uncivil" she offered me her hand and a smile. She had certainly retouched the make up but I could still see traces of tears. "Elizabeth Leigh. Assistant to editor in chief."

"Daniel's assistant?" I said, puzzled, taking her hands in mine. They were soft and gentle but firm, surprisingly strong for a woman of her fragile complexion.

"Yes, I've been working here for more than three months. I don't think I've seen you around, mister…"

I took a card from my pocket.

"Giovanni Rossi. Gio's Deli. Just a few blocks away. We do deliveries."

She nodded and looked at my card.

"My pleasure, Mr. Rossi."

"Call me Gio." I said and gave her one of my best smiles.

"Gio it is. Well, good bye, then." She said and went away into the office.

Pietro came to my side.

"'Call me Gio'" He laughed "Oh boy! You haven't changed a bit. Nice legs, eh?"

I nodded and made an acknowledging gesture.

"Don't sink your nose on that one, dawg."

I shook my head and the charm was over. My mind could still replay Betty and Matt together right in front of my eyes. I admitted to myself that I had no strength left to chase skirts. The pain was still there.

"I'm not interested." I replied.

"Keep it that way. That one? She's out of your league."

A crooked smile instantly formed in my lips —out of habit, I suppose.

"That's where you're wrong: the universe is my league."

"Not this time. That chick, she's Hartley royal blood, man. Cal Hartley was her uncle."

_Next chapter… soon_


	4. Chapter 3

**BREAKDOWN**

— Chapter III —

"Isn't that Betty's tiny slice of salami?" I heard a voice close to me. "What was his name? Joe? Paco?"

I pretended I wasn't listening.

"No. It's not him. This one is smaller. Look at him, Mandy. He looks like a smurf."

"It has to be him. That tight butt is definitely his. I could recognize the smell of cheese in a mile of distance."

"I grant you that. He does look so edible in…"

A vein snapped in my forehead. I turned to them: Marc St. James and Amanda Tanen were still in the reception room.

"Guys, I'm right here. I can hear you."

"Pickle boy!" Marc said in a singing voice. "You see? I knew it was you."

"But I was the one that said it!" Amanda said. Her blonde soft curls moving as she spoke. "Hey, Joe. Long time no see—"

"Gio."

"Right, Joe— "

"So, whatever-your-name-is" Marc said. "Sandwich prices went down in Wall Street? haven't seen you in like… ages. Oh, probably because Betty doesn't work in this floor anymore."

"She doesn't?" I asked. I never heard that Betty had been promoted. She never told me. Not that we kept in touch that much, anyway. How many things of Betty I didn't know these days. I felt a bit empty.

Marc's teeth gritted as he said. "She's an… editor, now. She works in another office."

"Beth has her place, now" Amanda jumped.

"And, who's Beth?"

"Don't play fool," Marc said. "Elizabeth Leigh. The one we saw you looking, queens hot dog. Beth, freckles Beth, stuck-up self-righteous Beth, Beth the Bastard Hartley, the new assistant of Daniel."

"She used to be assistant of Matt Hartley before. Did you know they're cousins? I could so have gotten that job. Damn the sportism!"

"Oh Mandy, I think you mean the nepotism. But, she was only his assistant, for —what? Like a week?! Then all that fuss happened!" Marc made a quick dramatic gesture, "and she begged to be moved to Daniel's office. Ah! Drama! Drama! I just love it!"

I took a step back and was about to leave that pack of mad nutcases when they pushed me back to them and told me very secretively.

"We heard you talking to that man" she signaled Pietro who was settling something with the officer that was staying in the reception desk. "Are you police now, Joe?"

Marc touched the lobe of his ear. I sensed some nervous expectation in him.

"No" I answered and I could almost swear I heard Marc sigh in relief.

"Well something smells funny about her" Amanda said, "and it's not only the cheap perfume she uses."

"Guys, I told you I don't care…" I said but Amanda pushed me against her very revealing cleavage. She didn't seem to care the closeness. Quite the contrary, she hugged my arm tighter and dragged her lips to my ear.

"She doesn't look at Matt like he's family. She looks at him like… like… like you used to look at Betty from the top of your carb-cart."

My faced must have turned red for she laughed at me.

"Don't feel bad, Joe. I say you were quite cute… almost like a puppy dog. But Beth… that's just sick."

Marc came closer too.

"Ah! Mandy. You and your lecherous twisted mind" he said, more proudly than disapprovingly.

"Not that I was intending to hear or anything" she continued. "But, right after the police finished interviewing Matt he came to Beth's desk. They weren't particularly shouting or discussing but the whole thing seemed odd to me: Matt was sitting in her desk. He never sits in her desk".

"No he doesn't" Marc confirmed. I was losing my patience.

"So, yeah, I found it weird. Matt and Beth, they barely even talk to each other. In fact, Matt tends to be quite cruel to her. I've seen it, we all have: In the meetings, at work, in the parties, everywhere... He treats her like his mother does. No wonder she's called 'The Bastard Hartley'. Anyway, it made me curious and I got closer. I couldn't hear clearly but it all look to me was as if he was begging her for help or something. Beth was very very very upset" she looked at me and Marc in turn, "very."

"You said she was crying" added Marc.

"Yes, crying. Exactly. So…" she looked straight to me. "Don't you find it very strange?"

I managed to set myself free from her grasp. "She just lost a family. I think that's reason enough to cry."

"But she never cries! She's not like Betty, you know".

"Definitely not like Betty" Marc said. "She had endured lot of … um… 'situations' in here… from everyone."

Amanda jumped forward.

"So, yeah. I was about to continue listening then police, they asked us to leave and then I was dragged here against my will. They told everyone to stay and we couldn't leave. Beth, she didn't come with us".

"Poor baby, I remember you were hysterical when they called you to come here."

Beth and Matt. Yeah, I remembered the scene quite clearly. The sad woman was standing in the entrance of the office, tears in her eyes, looking at that man while he was sitting in Betty's desk. No, it wasn't Betty's desk anymore. It was her place now.

"So what do you think, Joe? Very suspicious, right?"

"Okay…" I said again as gently as I could. These two were definitely mad and needed to be handled with care. "I think I'm leaving now."

"Aren't you even a bit curious?"

"Guys, really… I have a business to attend. I don't have time to play detective."

"Detectives! Great idea! Marc, don't you think we could be pretty good at that?"

"I think so. Actually, you can be the 'pretty' and I could be the 'good' one at it" answered her friend. Amanda visibly took it as a compliment.

I rolled my eyes and turned to leave them in their ramblings. Pietro finally came back to me after sorting something out in the reception desk.

"Here are your things" he gave me my belongings. "You are clear to go, Gio. I talked to the guards and explained you have nothing to deal with this stuff. Now, I have to go and attend something in there. We need to take the body out of Mr Hartley."

"Yeah, I think I'm definitely leaving, now."

Pietro patted me in the shoulder and made a sign to the officer letting him know I could leave the premises and disappeared into the offices.

The voice of Amanda was heard again.

"Giovanni Rossi?"

I gave a huge sigh, made a quick turn on my heels and said.

"The name is Gi—." I raised an eyebrow realizing she actually said my real name. "Well, you got it right this time!"

"Of course, Joe. What do you think I am? An idiot?" she said and I sighed again. "This call was for you. Beth wants to meet you."

"Oh!" said Marc very suggestively, clapping his hands. "Bravo! So we are going to play detective after all."

"Trying to seduce her to get the truth out of her?" Amanda said. "Because I would be totally up for that."

"Are you sure she called _me_?" I was surprised. "But… I just met the woman."

"Yes, it's you. She said to meet her in Matt Hartley's office. That's through that way."

I obeyed and, once again, made way into the office. That much orange in the decoration was hurting my eyes. But even with those new bright colors, the office felt like crushing upon me. I found it hard to breathe. It was as if there was a dark invisible mist surrounding everything, probably the presence of Death itself that was still roaming in every room. I was desperate to leave the place as soon as I could.

I didn't walk too far. I saw someone standing in the corridor. She was checking something in a blackberry. As soon as she noticed my presence she looked up at me. Half surprised to see me, half glad, she smiled. A few more steps and I found myself standing in front of her.

"Gio? What are you doing here?" she said. Still the same Betty: her long chestnut hair that gave that untidy aura around her, her rosy fresh face without any drop of make up made her look so much younger than she was.

"Hi, Betty" I answered. I mentioned I had already seen her when she passed through me without recognizing me just a few minutes before.

She really looked surprised at my remark. "Really? I'm sorry. I didn't see you. I was…"

"I know" I said. I had already forgiven her for her previous behavior. I wonder if she had ever treated me like that, the way she cared for that Matt Hartley.

"I guess… you heard" she told me. And something about her voice made me shiver.

A murder had just occurred but she was just there, unabashed, quiet. The Betty I knew would have been too nervous; too excited… she would have the need of me. The woman in front of me… I sensed her too calm, too cold. She had changed. Like a Mode Girl. Very unlike moments before or like the Betty I used to know, like the one I used to love…

My heart started beating madly in my chest. Who was I fooling? Have I really stopped loving her?

"You asked what I was doing here. I came here…" I slowly started but was quickly interrupted by the sound of Betty's cell phone. She answered it and changed into an alert state. "I'm coming right, now. Please stay calm. I'm going to talk to the detective, Matt. Calm down. He can't treat the body of your father that way. I'm coming…"

"I have to go." She said and quickly said finally looking me in the eyes with her own dark ones. "It was good to see you, Gio."

She left.

I shook my head and scratched the rough surface of my stubble. This was no good. I suddenly wished I hadn't seen her at all.

'Come on, Gio. Be a man! Let's get over with this and pack your butt back home.' I said to myself and finally found my destination.

I opened the door and saw Elizabeth Leigh in front of a very disorganized desk. She was stuffing a small leather briefcase with several papers and magazines from the table. She noticed my presence and quickly closed the bag.

"You're here" she said and erected to her elegant way of standing.

"You called me, miss Leigh." I said and walked towards her.

"Everyone calls me Beth" She waved her white hand, like a dove, very graciously. "I need to get out of this place. I can't stand it. I would do great with some breakfast and it's quite convenient you own a Deli. That's... if you are still up for it… Gio."

She played with a little strand of hair, a nervous tick I supposed, and placed it behind her ear. I finally found what had fascinated me of her before: she had a small birthmark in her face, close to her jaw line, right below her earlobe. It had the shape of a heart, and it was of a darker color than the scattered freckles she had sprinkled on her nose… My eyes just couldn't help but being drawn to that spot.

I think she noticed me looking. I coughed and smiled.

"Of course. I was about to leave, myself."

"Then, I'll go with you. Just—" she said, lifting a finger of her beautiful hands, "let me make a quick call".

She dialed somewhere and whispered something into the telephone. I think she was giving the address of the Meade Building. As if she was calling a Taxi company. It surprised me a little because I had told her the deli was only two blocks away.

"Done. Sorry for the wait" she said and picked a couple of magazines, a folder, her big purse and tried to carry the briefcase. It was such a heavy load for her skinny constitution.

"Let me" I said and took the briefcase. I hanged it on my shoulder and noticed it was quite heavy for being so small. I pointed to the exit with my hand. "Shall we?"

"Thanks. You're so nice" she said and walked ahead of me in the direction of the entrance.

Her long hair fluttered as she walked with her quick determined steps. I really never liked red in the hair of women. They made them look untrustworthy in my eyes. I wondered why.

Strangely enough, the front desk was deserted when we return back. I heard some sort of talk in the contiguous room but Beth hurried her steps and reached the elevator. "Are you coming?"

I thought I heard a voice calling from behind but I continued my way.

Beth was already inside the lift when I arrived to the elevator. I heard some steps and, looked to my right, just the way I had just walked from. Several meters away from me, stood the officer that I had seen guarding the reception desk. He looked a bit exhausted as if he had run all the way there.

"So, it's only you" he said, somewhat disappointed, and waved goodbye.

I made a gesture with my hand and entered the lift. Beth immediately pushed a button and the door closed in front of us.

Standing near her, in such small space, I could clearly hear her own breathing. It was too loud and unsteady. But she didn't say a word, or even moved an inch while we stood there. She just kept looking at the bright light jump from number to number in the panel.

A sound indicated we had reached the first floor.

We walked side by side, Beth had her eyes fixed on the exit.

We were about to reach the main entrance. I greeted a new security guard that was at the door and I waved to Antonio, my friend the porter, who sat by his side. Antonio nodded back at me. But then, he sprang up as soon as he saw Beth.

The guard quickly stood between Beth and me, preventing her to leave.

"Miss Leigh, we've been informed that you or anyone from Mode can't leave the building, yet."

She stared angrily at him.

"Those are the orders. I'm sorry" he said, not intimidated at all.

I was about to step forward but Beth raised a hand.

"I'll sort this out, Gio. It's okay. I'll see you later at the deli."

The guard took her purse and the papers from her. It was then that I noticed I still had her briefcase with me.

The guard gave a suspicious glance at me and then, turned to Beth.

"Is that bag also yours?"

Beth looked straight to my eyes.

"No. It's not mine."

She spoke calmly and coldly. Her words shocked me so I just stood there, like an idiot. I still don't know to this day why I said nothing. Must have been those cursed hypnotizing eyes.

"Let's go, miss" ordered the guard and urged her to follow him.

"I'll see you in the Deli as soon as I can, Gio. Please, wait for me there."

'I beg you' I almost read in her clear silvery eyes.

The most stupid thing of all was that I did exactly as she said.

_To be continued… soon_


	5. Chapter 4

**BREAKDOWN**

— Chapter IV —

A big black town car had been waiting for us outside MODE. I paid the driver for his pains and walked the few blocks distance downtown to the deli.

"_Finalmente!"_ Mauritzio welcomed me as I arrived. "_Ecco il mio capo!"_

I heard laughs and giggles. He happened to be sitting amidst a group of underage high schoolers. They were still wearing their uniform —that was Mauritzio for you.

"So, Gio," he continued smiling at one of the girls. "The construction paper you asked is on your desk. This pretty lady here got some for us."

The prettiest of the girls spoke to me in a sweet voice. "Is it for a scrapbook project?"

"That little man there" Mauritzio said, apparently annoyed for the attention she was addressing me, "He's quite the craftsman. He likes doing all these cute little projects, you know, like scrapbooking, building with lego blocks, plasticine sculptures..."

I heard more giggles. I really wasn't in the mood for Mauritzio and his lame jokes.

"_Dai! Dai! _We've got a lot of work to do" I yelled and went to the backroom "Do I have to do everything here? I should have left you driving tourists in Central Park."

"Hey! _Tutto il lavoro e' finito!"_ Mauritzio complained. "At least I'm not the one that spends the whole day sleeping."

I glared at him. The phone rang in my pocket.

"Gio Rossi?"

"Yes." I was puzzled by the warm voice that just called me. "Who's this?"

"It's Beth. You still have my bag?"

I just answered. "Yes, it's here with me."

She sighed across the line. "I'm sorry for being such a load. I hope you don't mind safekeeping it for me." She paused for a while and then said in a soft voice. "I don't know why… but I just feel I can trust you. You're such a gentleman. Will you wait for me?"

As expected, I agreed.

Mauritzio yelled something at me in the front so I put on my apron and washed my hands. I had a lot of things to do and, as always, taking care of my business kept me busy for the rest of the day. I wanted to forget the briefcase, my encounter with Betty and all The Hartleys, including Beth.

And it had proven to be impossible task: Calvin Hartley's death was mentioned on the evening news. They barely covered the incident and there was no mention of murder or any investigation been conducted. Just a brief account of all his achievements and several words about his only survivors: his ex-wife and son Matt.

The image of a very spruced up Victoria Hartley showed up on screen and spoke something. It gave me chills; she was one cold iceberg of a woman.

"That's her widow?" Mauritzio asked.

"I wouldn't call her his widow" I said. "They've been divorced for a few years."

"She'll be getting probably everything. All that money. Lucky her."

"Ah, come on! Have some respect. Someone died."

"I was meaning to ask you, Gio. Do you remember Manolo?"

"Manolo? Nope, doesn't ring a bell."

"He went to high school with us: Manolo Torres, two years our junior. His mother taught geometry."

"Yeah, yeah. I remember, now. That little annoying brat. Never liked him. I did know his older sister, Zoraida, very well."

"Of course you did, dawg" Maurizio turned off the TV. "Well, he passed away several days ago."

"Really?"

"You've been staying here for God knows how long and you miss the world! It was such big deal back in Queens" he said. "Suicide."

"I've never heard Manolo was suicidal."

"Neither did I. He'd no debt, no problems, apparently, but ended up jumping off a bridge. Tsk, tsk. Sad business for the family. Tonight is the final mass. How about closing early and pay our respects?"

Now these things, tragedies from the neighborhood, they didn't show on TV. Life meant nothing but a number in a statistics when you weren't born a big shot, like a Hartley.

"Nah! You go. I'll stay here tonight. I got too much in my head. Give my condolences to Zoraida from me."

Mauritzio shook his head but said nothing.

I barely noticed the hours go by until I found myself alone in the restaurant and sank on the chair of the back office. The briefcase was lying on a corner of the desk. Why had Elizabeth Leigh been so concerned about that briefcase?

Curiosity hit me and I remembered the look on her gray eyes as she begged me to carry this to a safe place. What was inside? Why was she so desperate to bring this out of the office?

I touched the metal brooch. It felt cold against the palm of my hands. But I stopped and didn't venture further. It was none of my business —or was it?

I felt the weight of the day and of sleepless nights fall heavily on my shoulders. I scratched my stubble, let out a huge yawn and, resting my forehead in my arm, I closed my eyes.

A soft whisper echoed in my ears. But I didn't wake up.

"Gio" the voice repeated. I opened my eyes.

Betty Suarez. Her voice was so different and yet my heart believed it was her. Her image started forming in front of me. She was all covered in blood. The red stain fell from her hands and spread, like a living being, all around the floor and the walls. Between her fingers she held a pair of scissors.

She looked at me with sadness. Everything else turned fussy.

"I did it, Gio". Tears started flowing like diamonds from her eyes. She looked at me. She saw through me.

I felt a void inside my chest, sucking the air out of me.

It was asphyxiating. I tried to move, to help her, to find a way to rescue her. But I couldn't.

And then she looked at me with pity.

My heart stopped pumping.

Something pulled me away and I abandoned my own body. I saw myself in front of me, as if it were a mirror. And it scared me. I was standing there cold, indifferent. Then my stoned face slowly evolved into a vengeful mask, and my lips slowly formed a demonic grin that distorted my features.

Betty gave a loud cry of horror.

I woke up all sweaty. My heart was threatening to jump off my throat. In my hands were tightly clutching a pair of scissors. I threw it to the floor as if it was contaminated.

Then I looked at the piece of paper at my desk, right where I've been sleeping, and my fingers caressed the rough surface of the newspaper.

Then I jumped again.

I heard a loud banging at the front door.

It was half past seven on my wristwatch.

"They finally let us go." Beth said as she entered the Deli. "I tried to get an explanation. I talked to the police and everyone that is anybody at MODE. It was all a misunderstanding, they say. I think they're trying to silence everyone. The press, all of us. They want a close case. She wants to shut us up. I don't think I can take it."

I didn't say a word and went to the backroom for a minute. She continued her nervous chatter.

"I can't believe it: heart stroke, natural causes. Can you believe that? This is insulting. Somebody killed my uncle. It was murder."

I placed the briefcase on the table.

"And the news. All lies. Nothing but lies. I shouldn't have—," she sat dramatically in a chair. "Now I can't. I can't—"

I stood by her side and said gravely:

"Why you lied?"

She looked at me. She didn't seem to have registered what I've said.

"Why you lied," I repeated, "about the briefcase?"

She took the leather attache into her lap and surveyed me for a moment as if trying to read my mind.

"I couldn't let the police get hold of this," she spoke with the same cold voice I've heard her speak in the office. "I'd been working on my own magazine at work. It's forbidden. I couldn't let anyone find out. I would end up being fired" She had a sad smile on her lips. "You all think I have privileges. You think I'm Hartley. But I am treated no different than any other worker at MODE."

I didn't trust a single word she said.

She sensed my incredulity and opened the briefcase, took some papers from it and placed it on top of the desk. There were drafts from magazines and notes. I gave a quick glance at it. I wasn't an expert; she could have fooled me with anything.

"I trust you" she said, pulling her hair back in a ponytail. "Do you trust me?"

I didn't.

"I'll take you home. My van is parked right there."

I helped her enter the van. I was about to start the engine when she touched my arm with her hands.

"My purse, I think I left it inside. My keys, everything is in it."

I grunted and swallowed a curse. Like she said, I was a gentleman so I decided to unlock metal door of the deli and search for her purse. I found it on the table she'd been sitting. Then, once again, I started the tedious process of securing the entrance of an establishment in the middle of Manhattan.

I drove her uptown.

"You know" she started after a short moment of silence. "Nobody liked me in my family, except Uncle Cal. He was so good to me. I can't believe he's gone."

I don't know why people just kept telling me things. They say I'm a good listener. I have no idea. I just know they open to me. They always had.

"I never met my father. He was a nobody. I've been hearing that since I have memory. My mother, she was a Hartley. She got me when she was too young. They never accepted my father. So he left me."

I gave her a quick glance. She spoke sadly but she wasn't crying.

"I had so many spare-fathers, I can't count them. She never loved me. The funny thing is that she couldn't have any more children. I think that made her hate me even more… I used to be sent to spend all summers with the Hartleys. I guess she wanted to get rid of me somehow. Not to see me. She died last year."

"I'm really sorry for your loss" I dared to say, feeling really awkward.

"I didn't care much about my mother."

"I mean your uncle… Mr. Hartley."

She nodded and thanked me silently.

"Pull over there. This is it" we stood by a small modest three-store hotel. Amidst protest, I accompanied her to the locked front door. She tried to find the keys inside her purse. The briefcase fell from her shoulder to the floor making a dry sound.

I quickly picked it. I would've sworn it was a lot heavier when I carried it the first time.

"Thank you" she said and kissed my cheek. "You are a nice guy, Gio. Not many men like you left in Manhattan"

"I'm from Queens." I said. She smiled and went inside.

I drove back to 'Gio's Deli' with the memories of the day hammering my temples. Like I predicted, I couldn't get any sleep. I opened a drawer on my desk and found a scotch. I didn't need ice. I wanted it to burn me. I wanted to drink until my head explode.

_To be continued… surprisingly soon  
_

Notes:

_Finalmente!_= (it.) Finally.

_Ecco il mio capo!_ = (it.) Here's my boss.

_Dai! Dai!_ = (it.) Come on!

_Tutto il lavoro e' finito_ = (it.) All the work is done.


	6. Chapter 5

**BREAKDOWN**

— Chapter V —

I woke up feeling confused. I licked my lips while I scratched my itchy beard, totally off guard, when something hit me on the head: a tightly wrapped baguette sandwich.

"_Che hai?"_ Mauritizio smug head peeked through the backroom door. "Asleep again?"

His voice rang in my ears like bells from a tower.

Mauritzio came striding to me and took what I've been holding in my chest and threw it in the desktop. "This shit again?" he muttered.

I didn't realize I'd been sleeping while hugging that picture. That was so—

"Pathetic!" Mauritzio saw me splash my face with some cold water to help me wake up. "Get over it, man. You've been so different ever since that article. No sleep, total slack, always drunk."

I passed my hands across my forehead, I was burning, but at least the world around me had finally stopped spinning. I came to join him to the front of the deli. Thankfully, it was still early morning and there was no customer in sight.

"You're wearing the same clothes you did yesterday," He said, taking his eyes out of the newspaper he was reading for a moment, "and the day before yesterday."

"I think I know that" I answered, devouring my breakfast sandwich.

"You're going to scare the customers."

"_Zitto!_" I complained. "I think I'm still the boss here. Can we talk about something else?"

"Listen to this." Mauritzio shook the newspaper. "Another body's been found, just two blocks from here. This one was an editor of a freelance magazine. I think it's one of those we use to cover the smokey ham... the one with the glossy paper. She was killed last night, inside her car, severe cuts all over her body and face. Wanna take a look?"

"Why exactly are you telling me this?"

"Trying to cheer you up, man!" he said.

"Not working."

"Fine. I'm calling a taxi" he said and pulled me by the collar of the jacket, forcing me to get out of the Deli. He was just lucky he was born on the tall side of the family. "Go and make yourself more decent. I can't suffer another day looking at you all shitty like this".

"Hey! I'm still in charge here." I blurted while he threw me inside a yellow cab.

"Whatever you say, boss." He closed the door.

I opened the door of another taxi as I found myself back in the deli several hours afterwards. I came as fast as I could but breakfast time had been over already. The transit on the way towards and back from Queens had been horrible at rush hour and I spent more time in taxi than at home. I was so glad I didn't live with my mother anymore. I don't think I would be up for her ramblings if she'd seen me in that state.

After I paid the man and said goodbye to half day's profit sale from the deli, I opened the door and Mauritzio saluted me as if he hadn't seen me for days.

"_Ciao, Cugi. _You've got _visita_:" Then he winked at me, "a chick."

I unconsciously felt relieved I had taken my time to shave and freshen up… and change my clothes at least.

"What chick?" I said. My heart started feeling uneasy. Could it be Betty?

"_La ragazza_, tall, long legs," he whispered, "_ha il capelli tutti rossi_. I'm in love."

Of course —Elizabeth Leigh.

Mauritzio threw an arm around my shoulders and got closer. "I know you've sworn off redheads since Mirna. So, is she single?"

A memory of long forgotten years came to me. Of course: Mirna Ponteya! The longest reddish hair I've ever seen, scarlet like fire, just like her heart; the first woman that burned me with a passion unknown to my younger years and the first woman that broke my heart. I mentally smiled —what had made me so vehemently think it'd been Betty Suarez?

With that thought in mind I entered the backroom. She was sitting on my desk. I think I saw Beth cheeks turn slightly red, just like her hair, when she saw me. I was glad she had it tightly wrapped in a pretty bun behind her neck.

"You look so…" she said, surveying me from head to toe.

"…handsome?" I answered and automatically smiled —force of habit.

"I was going to say… young."

I made a face. Not exactly what I was expecting.

"Do you know Matt?"

Beth handed me a picture, a newspaper clipping carefully glued to a construction paper. I hated that she'd found what I've left so careless on my desk. I didn't have to look on the article to know what was in it. I knew the content by heart. The clipping was two months old about a certain media event. Betty Suarez was there, unmistakably her, looking so pretty in her very mismatched but fashionable dress. She was standing near that guy. She was smiling by his side. "Matt Hartley and unnamed companion" was written under the picture. They seemed to be quite close. She looked so happy. I hated it.

"I know Betty. We used to be… friends. Don't mind it. I was going to throw that picture anyway."

She saw me break the picture in two and toss the pieces into the rubbish bin.

"Why are you here?" I cut dryly.

"Its official: they're calling it a heart failure." I saw the indignation painted all over her face. "How she always gets everything she wants. How she always imposes herself. She's going to get everything. And she's going to end clean."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

"What are you saying? That your aunt killed your uncle for money?"

She wasn't ashamed to admit it.

"I don't like her. I never had. And she doesn't like me either. So it's fine by me. But we all knew about my uncle's testament. It was public. There was no family secrecy. Most money and ownership of his companies are going to Aunt Victoria in the case of his death. I just didn't know she was going to get that far."

"What about his son?" I asked while I still had his smug look etched in my memories, standing close to Betty in that picture.

"All was to be kept in the custody of Aunt Victoria, I believe. Matt is not to get anything until he gets married or he turns a certain age. I think it was thirty. She had all planned out. I can't believe this."

I let her finish. I still didn't understand what part I was playing in all this or even if I wanted to be involved.

"You still haven't told me why you're here."

She stood up from her chair.

"I saw you talking with an officer. He seemed to be your friend." She said looking at me once more with her cold gray eyes. "Nobody tells me anything. I was wondering if you could call him."

"I don't think I can do that."

She didn't look as if she was going to let me off the hook easily.

"I don't like begging. But I will do it if I have to," she said, losing her usual composure. "I'm driving myself crazy. I loved him like a father. I can't let this like this. I must know at least what the police know. You must call your friend. I just want to know anything… something… anything."

She showed me her vulnerable self once more. She was definitely imploring me to help her. Maybe it wasn't such a big deal. It was just a call. I took the cell phone from my pocket.

I found the perfect excuse. After the usual greetings between men I decided to play my act.

"Pietro, Do you remember Manolo Torres?"

"Yeah, man. I've heard. Family is devastated," He answered me. "What a tragedy. I used to date his sister back in school, you know?"

I rolled my eyes. Who didn't?

"Did you know if he was depressed or something? Did he have any problem? Drugs? Gangs? Debt?"

"Not that I know of. No. Clean record. Electrical Engineering at uni. He was one of the good ones."

"I know. It's a shame. What has the world turn into?" I tried to sound as casual as possible. "Just like the murder of that millionaire. As if it were not difficult just trying to keep on living."

Pietro got suddenly silent for a moment.

I cast the bait again, cautiously.

"So, did you catch the culprit? It's going to be a bit edgy here knowing a killer is on the loose."

"Haven't you heard the news, Gio? The guy died of heart stroke. There was no murder."

I pretended to be surprised.

"No murder! You must be joking. I was there! I remember you even told me he was shot several times. That it was a big deal."

"I know what I've told you. But, it was just a false report."

"Come on, Pietro. I know you better than this. I don't care what the news says. This is just media bullshit."

After another moment of silence he whispered through the phone line.

"Listen, Gio, the whole investigation's been canceled. And, personally, I don't care. Neither should you. My promotion is in course. Did I tell you as of today I'm inspector in training?

"Well, congratulations, Pietro, but don't you find it a bit fishy that they are covering the murder? Don't you think there's something there, Mr. inspector-in-training?"

I knew I was pushing it too far.

"Look, I'm nobody. I couldn't start investigating the loss my own hair even if I wanted to. I have bosses and my bosses have bosses above them. And all these people know people of influence. They probably don't want a scandal".

"It looks pretty weird to me. A very powerful man just got murdered. How about the weapon?"

"We never found it. And it's very strange. We made sure to check all the belongings from the people at Mode that day".

"It can't be right."

"Gio, I don't know what you're playing at. But stay away from this thing. We don't belong in that world, you know? Just, don't get yourself dirty for that people," he said, "and you know what I mean."

I looked at Beth. I knew what he meant.

—0—

A couple of hours later, that evening at lunch, I went back to Mode carrying a wrapped sandwich in my hand. Honestly, I just wanted to see if Betty was really doing okay.

There was a huge line in front of the sole elevator working at Meade corp. The main corridor was crowded and yet people were silent like zombies, not even complaining, as if accepting an irremediable fate.

I found it quite curious, so I advanced to the reception desk. Amanda stopped paying attention to her manicure long enough to greet me. I felt honored.

"What's with all this silence? Do they all behave so properly even when one elevator is out of service at lunch time?"

"Victoria Hartley was supposed to come today and the office turns into a graveyard. She's worse than Wilhelmina. And I never thought that possible. Whenever she comes, they separate a special lift for her and The Hartleys. Nobody else is allowed to use it."

"You must be joking." The rich people and their quirk lives.

"She's kind of late today, though. Nah! Probably not coming anyway."

She focused once more in painting her nails so I made my way into the offices.

"You forgot again that Betty's office is not on this floor" she yelled at me.

I mentally hit myself on the head. I really had forgotten. To tell the truth, I didn't even know where she was working now.

I looked back. If I was to return to the elevator I'd have to go through that huge line of people.

"Anyway, if you came here for Betty," she shouted at me, "she took this day off to be with her boring boyfriend."

Damn it. I was a complete fool. I should've checked before hand.

"You're wrong" I said, as naturally as I could. "I came to bring this to Beth."

"Oh! The Bastard Hartley!" she said and I left her speculating. "You really could do better."

There she was, sitting in Betty's old chair. She was concentrating in something on the computer so she didn't see me sit on a corner of the desk. I placed the sandwich on top of a pile of paper near Beth just like I used to do with Betty.I had enough time to admire her heart-shaped birthmark —What life she'd lead?

Beth finally noticed my presence and turned around, startled by me. I loved it when Betty did that. I smiled.

Regaining her usual poise, she stared at my gift for a moment and, with a slight air of indifference, said, "Thank you. You're too kind."

She definitely wasn't Betty.

"So," I said pretending to make conversation, since I had no idea what I was doing there, "is Daniel here?"

"No, he didn't come today to the office. Can I help you with something?"

Her glacial tone froze me for a moment. Was she the same person that had just begged me to help her just a few hours ago?

"Is he sick?"

She threw me the why-would-someone-like-you-want-to-know stare. I chuckled at her behavior.

"He's my friend. I've known him for quite some time."

"Well," she said, still a bit cautious, "it's very unlike him not to have called yet. I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"Have you tried calling him at home?"

"Of course!" Her gray eyes were insulted by my question. "Nothing to worry about. He'll show up eventually. Shall I tell him to call you back?"

"Nah! It's okay." I kept sitting there. I had no idea what else to say, so I stared at her birthmark once again. Was she all right?

She stood up, took a newspaper, the sandwich, her purse and started walking away from me.

"Let's eat at your place. I need to get out of here for a while."

"Didn't you have certain leave rights for the loss of your uncle, too?" I followed behind.

"I didn't take it. I must stay." She said as she walked before me towards the elevators. "I'm not done yet."

She ignored the large line of people and went straight to the door on the left.

She pushed a few buttons in the panel, entered and asked me to follow her. She was a Hartley, after all.

A hand stopped the door from closing.

The head of Marc st. James peeked inside the lift and invited himself in, followed swiftly by Amanda.

"I didn't ask you to come" Beth said, regally.

"But we're here anyway" Marc said and pushed the floor button.

"Hi, Joe" Amanda winked at me, "again."

The second the door closed, the lights suddenly went off and we heard a small explosion on top of our heads. Before we had time to realize what was happening, the elevator plummeted down with us trapped inside.

Amanda and Marc screamed. Adrenaline filled my veins but I was still conscious enough to notice a very frightened Beth trying to make equilibrium besides me. I threw my body towards her and held her securely against the wall.

But the elevator didn't crash. There was a pull and we made a sudden stop. The lights turned on again.

"Are we dead?" Amanda said. Marc was still hugging her.

"Are you okay?" I asked Beth. She just nodded and gently pushed me away from her body. I helped her stand up.

I pressed the emergency button and asked for help. There was no response.

Beth closed her mobile phone. "No signal."

"Help! Somebody help!" yelled Amanda, hitting the door. "Help!"

I sat down in one corner.

"I guess we'll have to wait for a couple of minutes. They'll come."

The couple of minutes turned into half an hour.

Beth kept her cool but dared to say. "Maybe they don't know we're here. Nobody was supposed to use this elevator."

"We're going to die here" Amanda yelled.

"Argh! I refuse to die in this box" Marc whined. "This is not the way I plan to die."

"Who in God's name plans his own death?" Beth said, ironically.

"Nobody is going to die" I said. "Calm down, okay?"

"Cameras! There are cameras!" Amanda snapped. "I know there are cameras in the elevator."

"Don't get too excited" Beth said, "all surveillance devices were ordered to be disconnected."

"Why would they do that?" Marc asked waving his hands in despair.

"They told us that the decision was made so people weren't afraid to work in a 'hostile environment'," Beth said. "It just sounds like my aunt's kind of thing."

"That is just plain stupid" Marc retorted. "The murderer could still be out there. Anyone of us could be killed."

"Do you… do you think somebody actually killed my uncle?"

"Of course I do. Heart stroke? Come on! What are you taking me for? I'm not a gullible idiot like—" he eyed me and Beth in turns "some people. I've been doing my own research. I value my life too much to stay around a place where there's a killer on the loose."

"Shush!" Amanda butted in, "It's a secret. We've been playing detectives. It's quite fun."

Marc pushed Amanda down until she was sitting by his side.

"I know for a fact that the police never found the murderous weapon and that the Hartleys paid off the press to shut up. Police confirmed that nobody left the building after the murder occurred. Which directs us to the horrible truth" he said with a mysterious face. "That the killer is among us."

"Really?" Beth raised an eyebrow. She wasn't fooling anyone. I knew she'd been thinking the same thing. "The police didn't give information to anybody."

"I'm not anybody." Marc said equally raising an eyebrow.

"Never thought you had it in you" I smiled to him with a hint of irony in the corner of my lips. "I'm surprised."

"Sorry to hear that, pickle boy. If you weren't so disgustingly distracted in trying to melt your cheese in that short-sighted fat Mexican Taco, you'd noticed I'm actually The Genius at Mode".

"You better stop talking about Betty in that way." I said shockingly annoyed, caught by a sudden torrent of anger, grabbing him violently by his colorful scarf.

"What are you? Children?! Stop this nonsense!" Beth commanded. "We have more important things to think about."

She looked at me and then at Marc. I feared what she could be thinking. She was a clever woman.

"Yeah" Amanda cried, "I really need to go to the toilet!"

I took the newspaper from the floor and tried to ignore everyone else's presence inside the small confine. I had barely shut myself by reading something when I heard a loud cry.

"I know her!" It was Marc. "I know her!"

I folded the page and looked at the page he was showing us. Everyone got closer to get a better look at the article. It was about the murdered girl that was found horribly stabbed that same morning.

"I recognize that face. I've seen her," Marc said almost yelling. "She studied with me in the Y.E.T.I program!"

A loud metal bang made us jump in unison. Then another one and he door slightly opened. We were finally being rescued.

_To be continued_

Notes:

_Che hai? _= (it.) What's up.

_Zitto!_= (it. fam.) Shut up.

_La ragazza, ha il capelli tutti rossi _= (it.) The chick, she's got the hair all red.

_Ciao, Cugi_= (it. fam.) Hey, cuz (cousin).


	7. Chapter 6

**BREAKDOWN**

— Chapter VI —

The next day, I made sure to go to the exact floor where Betty worked. I entered the Meade Building and my friend Antonio welcomed me. He wanted to apologize for the uncomfortable situation with the police officers two days ago.

"No harm done" I said to him. If anything he owed Beth an apology, not me. He then gave me a pass and showed me the emergency door.

"You have to be kidding me" I said. "What's wrong with the lifts?"

"Mrs. Hartley special elevator is under repair today. So, we reserved the other one for her" He lowered his voice. "She's been here since early this morning. I hope she leaves soon. Everything here is a chaos when she's around."

"Unbelievable." I complained. I've rarely met crazier people than those I've met in these offices. Who in his right mind would force a whole lot of workers walk their way into more than fifty floors of a skyscraper.

A couple of unbelievably scrawny women walked quickly ahead of me. I was about to feel pity for them but then, I thought, that workers of MODE would appreciate the exercise. Probably to burn the only ten calories they consumed in their breakfast —if they had any.

I was moody and slightly covered in sweat by the time I reached the twenty-eighth floor.

'Betty Suarez - Features Editor' I read on the little plaque in front of the many doors in that floor. I smiled proudly.

"Gio?" I heard a voice behind me.

I hadn't finished a complete turn when I felt her arms wrap around my body in a hug.

"Oh my God! I heard from Daniel." She started in her high pitched nervous voice. "I was told the cables snapped and… and the safety breaks malfunctioned and… I didn't even know you were there. What were you doing there? I thought—I thought the elevator crashed on the floor! I thought the worse had happened."

"Hey" I dared hug her in return. I loved to feel her warmth once again. "I'm okay."

Probably the intimacy between us made her feel uncomfortable because she grew tense and gently pulled out of the embrace, her face red as beets. We were in the middle of the main corridor. But people didn't seem to care about us.

There she was, looking still silly inside all those stamped clothes that covered her body lately but just as naturally beautiful and as sweet as I always remembered her.

"Nothing to worry about, Betty. I was explained that there was a special safety system that triggered at the last minute. Did you know that an additional break was installed in that car? Not many elevators have them, I was told. Am I a lucky bastard or what?"

"How could you make jokes on something like this, Gio. You could have died."

"Woah! Look at you" I chuckled. "A few days ago you could barely notice my presence and today you welcome me with hug and… well, at least you aren't totally glad that I got killed in there. Aren't we making progress?"

I got hit in the arm. I was expecting that reaction and I was glad. She wasn't the cold Betty I met two days ago. She was my Betty.

"So what are you up to? How about going down, grab some breakfast and catch up with this year?"

"I'm sorry, Gio. I'd love to" she noticed my disappointed face. "I really do. But I'm here helping Daniel survive Mrs. Hartley. She's checking the premises with the team. Now that Mr. Hartley is gone she's managing the whole business now."

I noticed a little crowd had gathered at the end of the main corridor. I recognized Daniel, Wilhelmina Slater and Victoria Hartley. Betty looked at them a bit worried. I knew she was about to leave me and run to join the working party at any moment.

"Betty. I heard a little explosion in the elevator that day. Have you heard anything, some report, an investigation, anything about what happened yesterday?"

"Just what Daniel told me. This morning Human Resources sent a small communication explaining the incident and claimed it was slight malfunctioning due to poor maintenance."

"But you don't believe that, do you?"

"I don't know what to believe."

"I think there's something fishy going on in this place. Look, Betty" I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her gently closer to the door of her office. "Beth, Marc and Amanda are going to meet at my deli tonight."

"For what?"

"Investigate, debate, discuss about what's going on in here. Or maybe to justify late evening carb-munching, I don't know." I looked into her eyes. "Betty, I want you to come."

She looked at me incredulously.

"What's that? A game? Gio, Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. And no, it's no game. Well, maybe for them but not for me."

"I don't know, Gio" She freed her arm from my grasp and gave a quick glance to the back of the room where the rest of her peers were trying to handle Mrs. Hartley. "I have so many things to do."

"Ah, come on, Betty. You used to loved stuff like this, remember? Adventures, mystery, challenge. Have you really changed that much?"

"Gio…"

Honestly, I just wanted an excuse to see her as much as possible.

"I know it seems crazy now. But I really think there's something going on. At least I want you to know anything that could help you be prepared, be safe, while you are working in here."

She looked at me with interest across the crystal of her red rimmed glasses. She had the most beautiful emerald earrings in her ears but they were no match for the shine in her big brown eyes.

"I appreciate your concern, Gio. But I really don't have time. This new job is exhausting."

She was slithering out. But I was determined to have her go to the meetings, not only for her sake but for my own. I don't know how I would have survived if I had to spend more than half an hour in that elevator. I pulled another one: the pity card.

"Aw man! There's not easy way to say this" I took a step back. "Betty, I've been dreaming about you."

Her face turned red again.

"Gio, this is not the place—"

"No. Not those kind of dreams." I said still serious. "More like nightmares. Really awful nightmares. I'm afraid you're not safe in this place, Betty. I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you."

For a moment we locked eye to eye and I didn't hear the talking of the people in the office, the same magic that always surrounded us years ago for those brief days when she'd let me be a little bit more than a friend.

And then something broke the spell.

I noticed someone looking at me. It was Beth. She came walking across the corridor; she passed our way without saying a word and joined Daniel and his crew. The corner of my eyes followed her.

Then, I heard the peculiar voice of Mrs. Hartley a few notches higher than normal.

"Beth, the poor thing, there you are. I heard about yesterday. I almost thought you've died. What would we do without you? You better be careful."

Beth didn't say a word. I saw her ignore her aunt and turn to Daniel. I shook my head. I really hated the Hartleys.

My attention focused back on Betty.

"Listen, Betty, I have a feeling this murder is related with the mysterious murders going on in Manhattan, somehow."

Betty looked at me with a spam of surprise on her face.

"What?! What makes you say that? You're scaring me, Gio."

"Marc recognized one of the victims. She studied with you in that writer program."

"What do you mean? You mean YETI?" her face was suddenly pale. "I can't believe this. This is awful. I knew all of them. I— need to tell Matt."

"Wait. Will you come?" I held her wrist and make her gently turn towards me. Then, again, the touch of her skin sent bolts to my body, just like it used to before.

She nodded in response. "I'll go. At least for tonight."

It was then that I noticed she had a huge silvery watch dangling from her wrist.

"What is this? Men's watches are into fashion now?" She smiled. I always liked it when I made her smile. I was already sorry to make her sad and worried.

"It was a gift from Matt. He gave it to me a month ago." I let go of her. Nope, I didn't like where the conversation was leading. She touched the expensive watch with her fingers. "It is very special to him. It belonged to his father".

I didn't notice when Beth had approached us until I saw her beside us. She didn't even excuse herself and talked right to me. "Gio, I want to confirm this evening." Then she said, barely turning towards Betty. "Daniel asks if you have some advance of your work to show Mrs. Hartley."

I put both my hands inside the pockets of my jacket and said. "Sure. I'm still up for it. And Betty is coming too."

I saw that Beth wasn't very pleased. Her features darkened. "Did you tell her… everything?"

Beth spoke coldly as if Betty wasn't in the room right next to her. Betty said:

"You know, Gio. I really have to go now. I'll see you tonight" Betty blushed and muttered. "Thank you, Beth."

She walked away, almost tripping. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she quickly returned back and, without even looking at us, opened the door behind my back and entered her office.

"What was that all about?" I said when Beth and I we were both alone.

"We can't be telling everybody about this."

I chuckled. "She's not everybody, she's Betty."

"We must keep this quiet if we want this to work. We don't know who could be behind all this."

"So I was right about you. You also think that the killer is among the people at MODE!" I lowered my voice. "Not just your aunt."

"As far as I'm concerned, anyone of us is a suspect." she said, her gray eyes as frozen as her words.

Her paranoia was really exasperating.

"Look, Betty is fine." I said, sternly. I wasn't afraid of those eyes.

"I don't trust her. There's something about her" she insisted.

"Well, she's coming to the deli tonight. Man! You need to start learning how to trust people, darn it!"

"I don't like her."

"But you'll have to deal with her and my own decisions. Do you want me to help you with this thing or not?"

I turned around and left without even waiting for her answer.

_To be continued_


	8. Chapter 7

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter VII—

Amanda picked the farthest table at a corner of the restaurant. That place was to become our special gathering spot from that night on.

"So, okay! What do we know so far?" Marc started. "Cal Hartley was murdered around 7:45. His body was found by Claire Meade inside his own office around 8:10. He was shot three times, no signs of struggle. Nobody heard anything so it must have been a silenced weapon. The police never found it."

"What was that man doing so early?" I asked. "Was that usual?"

"He had a meeting scheduled with Daniel and Wilhelmina." Betty answered. "I think they were going to discuss something very important and very secretive in his office. That's all I know."

Mr. Hartley had settled an office in Mode. Ever since he rescued the company from bankruptcy, he had been very particular of the way Wilhelmina and Daniel ran the business but everyone knew he was more ambitious. He wanted to take over the Meade Publications. Everyone at Mode seemed to know that.

"Did he have enemies?" Amanda asked. "Like the mafia or the Russian government."

We were already getting used to her interventions.

"He was a little bit eccentric," Betty spoke, "once he ridiculed Daniel in public."

"Yes, he had a very peculiar way of making business" Beth said. "But I don't think any of his competitors would go as far as to kill him for that."

"I still find it very strange that he and his ex-wife were there so early in the morning. What was so important to discuss with such urgency?"

"Well, there has been some talk of drastic re-engineering at Mode. A lot of people were going to be laid off" she looked at us in turn. "All of this is confidential, you understand?"

Amanda and Marc didn't show any signs of surprise.

"I see. You already knew."

"Don't underestimate me, Cher Horowitz." Marc said. "I'm wiser and older. When you started crawling, I had already danced with tap shoes."

"So, I guess," said Amanda, "it was kind of a good thing Mr. Hartley got killed that morning. We still have our jobs, right?"

Beth was taken aback for a brief moment; even her birthmark grew paler —Was she all right?

"I'm glad he's gone. All these changes! Those crazy ideas: cutting costs, laying off experts and hiring incompetent family members to run the business. No wonder Mode sales hadn't picked up in months."

"Well, why are you here, Marc?" she said. "It seems that now you, Amanda and the rest of the workers of Mode have a motive for killing my uncle."

"What? You think I'm a spy?"

"You could be working for Wilhelmina, for all I know" Beth said without breaking eye contact.

"Why don't we all say the reason why we're here tonight" Amanda suggested. "I think I saw it in a movie! It is so cool. It's when—"

"I'll start" Beth said. "I'm obviously here because I must know who killed my uncle."

"Fine. In my case I'd rather be somewhere else than in this third-rate place," said Marc, "but I can't stand the idea of a murder among us."

"I'm just here for the cupcakes" Amanda said, grabbing a snack from the dish Mauritzio brought to our table, "—and it's fun."

"I'm here because I was invited" said Betty. "But I also think everything is all somewhat strange."

"I have my reasons" I said and my eyes caught Betty's.

"That won't do, Pickle boy. You must have a reason or get out."

"Let's just say I have nothing else to do but clean this place at these hours and you all needed a place to get together so, I'm here for you. Besides, after what happened in that elevator I'm taking it a bit personal."

"Yes, we were almost killed!" Amanda yelled. "Maybe this is not such a good idea. What if the killer knows?"

"The elevator broke down" Betty said, "because of bad maintenance. They said it on the memo."

"What do you know? Maybe someone did try to kills us, maybe someone tried to kill Victoria Hartley" Marc retorted, "Can someone remind me why is she sitting here with us?"

Beth looked at me. She was probably asking herself the same thing.

"Betty will be of great help" I placed my hand on top of hers on her lap. Betty blushed and thanked me by squeezing it gently.

"Mmm, could he join too?" Amanda glared at Mauritizio who was putting out the chairs. "He looks kind of hot."

"No" Beth said categorically, "and I would like to ask you, Gio, to keep him away from this as much as you can. We need to be very discreet."

"Hartley warning! Hartley warning!" Marc jumped in. "Hold it right there, freckle-face. Who exactly put you in charge in here?"

I was starting to wonder what was the deal with Marc and his extreme aversion to Beth.

"Well, have you or anyone else brought anything to discuss?" she pulled some notes from her purse. "Here's list of everyone that was at Mode at that time."

"Well, I've been doing something too." Amanda said, smiling. "I'd been reading plenty of mystery novels to educate me on this… Well sometimes just the index tables but that is something, right?"

Betty rolled her eyes.

"Hey guys. I'm leaving for tonight" Mauritzio said from the door. Amanda winked suggestively at him and blew him a goodbye kiss. "_Ehi, Gio. Dimenticare la rossa, dammi il numero della bionda!_"

"_Vattene!" _I shoved him out. I was glad we were finally alone in the Deli. "And there's the deal of the girl from Y.E.T.I.; Marc knew her."

"Not exactly 'knew her'. She studied with us at that time" explained Marc. "She was the African-American girl that worked for that ridiculous magazine 'Breakdown Calling'. She had a thing for everything green: green clothes, green accessories… pretty bad taste, if you ask me. Not too clever, just an average girl. Betty might know more about her. Your boyfriend Matt and she were in the same group until you decided to recruit him to our study team."

"I rarely spoke to her but Matt said he recognized her from the news. It is all so sad."

"What does it have to deal with this case?" Beth suddenly said. She was so arrogant sometimes. "Do you think this has to deal with my uncle? I don't think so. And, Betty, please, keep this away from Matt. We need to be careful with the information we give away."

"I'm sorry" Betty said.

"Okay, now, you're going to be our secretary. Here" She gave her a little notebook and a fountain pen. Betty did as she told, sheepishly. Marc and Amanda laughed loudly with no shame.

That was too much. Beth had not right to humiliate her like that. I snatched the pen and the notebook out of her hands.

"Fine, do as you please," Beth raised an eyebrow at my gesture. "So, let's try to make a breakdown of all the potential suspects, starting with the people that were there by the time of the murder. The first condition is that they had to be at MODE that morning; then, let's try to sort the motive."

We started playing Beth's game classifying people that had any kind of opportunity to go to Mr. Hartley and murder him.

"So, how about we start with Marc st. James?"

"I'm okay being on the list" he said. "I didn't do it, of course and, if you really want to know, I was with Amanda at the reception desk sharing a piece of gossip."

"Okay. Now, Betty Suarez, you were in our floor. I saw you eating with Matt at the cafeteria early in the morning".

"Yes, but I went to my office when I finished."

"You were at Mode by the time of the murder?" I looked at her with worry.

"I was but," she looked at me right into my eyes, "I didn't do it. You must believe me."

"Actually, guys, please. Come on, it's Betty. She couldn't hurt a fly."

"Hey, lover boy, if she's a suspect, she's a suspect. Actually, almost every one of us is… except, maybe, you."

"Actually, that makes him suspect number one."

Everyone of us turned and focused in the same direction.

"What?!" said Amanda. "Usually the killer is the least suspect."

"She's got a point there" said Betty.

"Okay!", Beth says a bit exasperated. "Give me the list. I'll handle it and, Betty, you must understand we have to write you in."

"Then, you were also there when it happened. I saw you in your desk early that morning."

"Yes, you're right" Beth only nodded and calmly wrote in the paper. "So both you and I are going in."

She looked at me from the corner of her eyes while she wrote Betty's name.

"This is so stupid!" I said. "Well, maybe you want to put me in there too but I was in here sleeping by the time it all happened."

"Wow! Nice life you lead there, pickle boy."

"It's none of your business" I replied. "I've been having problem sleeping these days."

It was Betty's turn to look at me. I saw a hint of worry in her eyes. I liked that.

"Mrs. Hartley" continued Beth. "She was in a meeting with Daniel at that exact time but I moved once from my desk so I can't tell if she had an opportunity to sneak out of the room."

"Where were you then, can you tell?" asked Marc.

"I went to the toilet. I hope you're not implying I killed my own uncle."

"Mrs. Hartley was acting very suspicious that day" pointed Amanda. "She barely spoke to Matt when they met at the reception."

I glanced at Betty. She lowered her eyes. I remember the stories she told me about how strongly she was opposed to her relationship with her son.

We concurred that she was our primary suspect. There was a piece that worked on her favor: the elevator that crashed. There was a slight chance that someone could have tried to harm her… or kill us. It also was very suspicious nobody was interested in investigating what happened there."

"Wilhelmina, Claire and Daniel did in a quick meeting that evening the elevator failed. Marc and I were there. They are terrified how bad publicity could cast a shadow on the company. So, they chose to keep everything secret."

"Or maybe one of them is the killer and doesn't want to investigate further." I said, "This is ridiculous!"

"And frustrating" said Betty. "We're not the police. How are we going to make a decent decision out of this doubtful information?"

"I think I'll add Daniel to the list" Beth said and wrote his name. "He wasn't in the office for most part of the day after the incident and he was never too comfortable with my uncle's influence in the company."

"How— How can you do that?" Betty looked at her with horrified expression. "Daniel is your boss. You're his assistant, you must protect him."

Beth responded coldly. "I don't know how you worked with him but I'm just her employee. I mustn't get too emotionally involved to become impartial to him and neither should you. If someone is a suspect then we have to put him on the list."

"But—" she said. I was sitting by her side so I put my arm around her shoulders.

"It's okay Betty. It doesn't mean he did it."

She leaned closer and whispered to me.

"I should have never left him," she looked at Beth through her thick eyelashes, "at least not until he found a proper assistant."

"Nobody is going to be like you were with Daniel" I said, "But you did well, Betty, and I'm sure he appreciates what you did for him but you can't be always be taking care of him. He's a big boy."

"Enough with the chit-chat" said Marc. "I'm tired and sleepy. Who's next?"

"Your boss" Beth said, "Wilhelmina Slater."

"And she surely looks the type that could kill with her bare hands" I joked and grabbed a chip from the plate.

"Well, yeah" Marc said. "But she has no motive. The Hartleys saved Mode"

"But Matt Hartley took her job" said Betty. "She treats him like dirt."

"She survived Daniel Meade, I'm sure she could tolerate another unqualified idiot."

"I'm sorry, Marc" said Beth in a tone she didn't meant to be sorry at all, "Wilhelmina is one of our top suspects so she stays in the list."

"I left her in her office before I went to the reception. She's also the one that called the police and was first one to offer herself to be interviewed."

"Well, she could still be trying to mislead the investigation" Betty insisted. "Also, there's a common pattern in murderers with dominant personalities and power, like Wilhelmina, to develop a self-righteous conscience in order to conceal their own wrongdoings by playing both sides of good and evil. Some call it the Hermes complex."

"And somebody's been watching a lot of TV lately" Marc said.

I blinked —what the hell was all that jazz?

"'Criminal behavior analysis by Dr. Robinson' one of Matt's favorite books" Beth said.

Betty blushed.

"Yes, well. Matt has this huge collection of books on serial killer, murders, weapons and stuff like that."

"Gross. How sick is that?" said Amanda.

"It's just a hobby" Beth looked like she was defending him, "sort of a family tradition. Uncle Cal has— had this amazing collection of spy and criminal weapons and so did grandpa."

"So it runs in the family, eh? I guess that makes you a psycho too, miss Hartley" says Marc, vicious as always.

"You're the one that always says," she looked right back at him, "that I'm just half a Hartley, the blue blood doesn't fully run through my veins."

"So, do you think Matt could have done it?" asked Amanda.

"Like I said, he was having breakfast with me." Betty said.

"He's the biggest procrastinator there is. He's probably too lazy to even plot a murder. But, why not? It could be him" said Marc. "I don't think he's all that well in the head department."

I completely agreed with Marc.

Beth hesitated for a second before she wrote his name.

"Now, there's Claire Meade. She's been acting very strange lately" Beth continued. "She's also the one that found him. I heard her screaming, that's when I knew something had happened."

I told them about the conversation I heard that day at mode. How Wilhelmina threatened her and the mention of a certain secret they shared.

"But she's too kind to be a murder" Betty says.

"She went to prison" pointed Marc, "and remember all those ex-convicts working with her at Hot Flash. She has the profile."

Right then Amanda jumped. "I finally have one! Jenny from accounting!"

Another collective sigh of frustration filled the room.

"What?! Where do you get that from?" Beth said abruptly. "Her name hasn't even been mentioned before."

"Well we don't know if she has a motive but she's related to all this somehow."

"I know Jenny" Betty said. "She's a nice person. I don't see how she could be related to this at all."

"She's sister to Pietro, one of the police officers that came to investigate and she works in the third floor of Meade."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Well, Pietro was worried because she had a secret boyfriend in our floor and he wanted to know if I knew about him."

"Why would he tell you anything about his sister?" Betty asked. "Did you know that guy?"

"No, never met him before in my life. I told him I didn't know anything about it."

"I don't understand" I asked. "Why would he trust you to confide you such thing?"

"He's a teddy bear. He said I looked like a Hollywood actress. Oh! maybe he wanted to apologize for the way police treated me. You know he made the best lasagna."

"He cooked you food? Where? When?"

"At my apartment, the night of the day of the murder."

"WHAT?!" we yelled in unison.

"What what? I liked his cute belly, too."

So that's where Marc got all that information from.

"Wait a minute" I asked. "Pietro didn't mention he had any sister at Meade and I spoke with him for quite some time. I know all his family."

"Well," I remember her, said Marc. "She's skinny, pale face, blue eyes, wears glasses and has brown untreated hair with tons of split ends, never wears make up: a very plain girl."

"Yes, that's Jenny Vitelli. Darn it!"

"So is she in the list?" clapped Amanda, probably happy to contribute in some way.

"We don't have motive. But the fact that our friend, the police officer, failed to mention this is strange enough to me", said Beth. "We'll have them both on the list. So we could investigate them further."

After a couple of more minutes of more discussion, we were ready to call it a day.

"Tomorrow I'll confirm the alibi of these people at the office."

Marc snatched the paper from Beth hands.

"Give me that, Match-head."He waved his index finger in front of her face. "Nah-nah! I'd be very suspicious if you suddenly started talking with people, being socially challenged as you are. I'll work this myself if we want to do it right."

We planned to meet once again the next evening. Soon afterwards, Marc and Amanda left on a taxi. I was about to grab my keys to drive Betty and Beth, when a limousine stopped in front of the Deli. Betty ran to the door.

"Oh! Matt came to pick me up! I must go, now." she stopped for a second. "And don't worry, I won't tell him anything about what we talked tonight."

Beth and I motioned to the door and looked how Matt Hartley welcomed Betty inside the vehicle and both disappeared into the city. He didn't even care to say good-bye to us. I really hated that man.

"Would you give me a ride?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"Give me a minute" I said and returned inside the Deli. I picked the purse she had absentmindedly left once again on the table and gave it back to her. "You need to be more careful."

After I left Beth in her place and drove back home through the streets of Queens I gathered some thought about that night's meeting. I believed some of us could be lying, I expected no less from the people of Mode, but I was puzzled about Pietro.

It was very strange of him so I made up my mind to call him personally first thing in the morning.

_To be continued_

Notes:

_Ehi, Gio. Dimenticare la rossa, dammi il numero della bionda!_= (it.) Hey, Gio. Forget the redhead, give me the phone number of the blondie.

_Vattene!_= (it.) Get out!

Edited: Fixed the name of the magazine.


	9. Chapter 8

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter VIII—

The morning duties in Gio's Deli took most of my time. The energy I felt inside my veins surprised me, I survived another rough night but managed to wake up feeling somewhat rested. I had totally forgotten about Pietro, Betty and the detective game I've been immersed into, when I casually looked through one of deli windows and noticed the slim figure of Elizabeth Leigh approaching to my little restaurant.

I was convinced that woman was stalking me.

"Yo!" said Mauritzio the moment he saw her enter the deli. "_Bambola,_ I've missed you. You're looking very fine today."

I wasn't sure he was talking to her or the pair of legs she flaunted under that pretty burgundy skirt. She offered him nothing more than little smile for greeting. She stopped in front of me.

"Did you call?"

I guessed that was her elegant way of saying 'good morning'.

"I never said I was going to call him."

"But you thought about it" she said and sat in one of the tables. "Will you do it now?"

I laughed, she really amused me. "Mauritzio! Bring some coffee—"

"Tea."

"—tea _alla piccola principessa_, here. You're very demanding; did anyone ever tell you that?" I looked at her from head to toe. "Have some respect to your elders. How old are you?"

"You won't expect any decent woman to answer that. How about you? You shaved yourself five years off since the first day I met you. Now it's hard to guess."

"So you like me scruffy" I smiled —Was I flirting with her?

Mauritzio came with the cup of tea, looked at both of us with distaste and muttered to himself all the way to the counter_. __"Suppongo che non avremo mai una possibilità. Vabbè, immagino che dovrò invece provarci con la bionda."_

"Say what you want but I think you just came with that excuse just to see me." I tried to make a guess, "Twenty-four?"

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you're not that cute. And, I'm not twenty-four —are you?"

"I know many girls that would disagree with that statement —I'm not twenty-four, come on! Don't offend me" I checked the amount of freckles on her face, "You're not that cute either."

"I saw you checking my legs the other day," she said with a slightly crooked smile. I automatically grinned. She saw me looking at her, which was good.

She took a zip from her tea and said. "You're twenty-five."

"Twenty-seven" Mauritzio came with some cookies and ruined all the fun.

"So—" I started again.

"Weren't you going to call your friend?"

—0—

Pietro had sounded a bit upset across the line. We agreed to meet out of the office. I grabbed my jacket and gave a few instructions to Mauritzio.

"_Bravo!_ Leave all the work to me and hang out with the girl. Way to go, boss."

Beth insisted in joining me. She'd asked Daniel the morning off.

"I don't think he's going to miss me" she said.

It was really funny. The magazine's main investor had died a few days ago, the company had lot of noxious press to palliate, employees to motivate, financial and operative processes to readjust… and Daniel was going to need as much help as possible. Maybe Betty was right, maybe Daniel needed a new assistant.

"Where's the van?" she asked as we went out of the deli to the bustling air of the streets of Manhattan.

"Mauritzio will be doing deliveries in the morning"

I don't think she liked the idea very much. She stood silent and pensive for a moment. "But you do walk, don't you?"

I reached for her hand and pulled her out of her thoughts. "Let's take the Metro."

She shuddered and slowly released her hand from inside mine. I must have known she wasn't the type that allowed people to invade her safety zone.

We finally reached the rendezvous joint, a small café not too far from the police station.

"What is Little Missy doing here?" what's the first thing that came out of his mouth right after a small stream of cigarette smoke.

Beth was 'little missy' now, Pietro must've been really pissed.

"Whatever I know, she knows" I said and sat on the table.

"What are you doing? This is not game, Gio. There could be a murderer out there."

"But your office closed the case, remember? You called it 'natural death'" said Beth.

"Where you going to tell me that Jenny worked for mode? Or where you going to do that right after telling me you slept with one of the potential suspects on the case?"

Pietro squeezed the rest of the cigarette in the ashtray and started a new one.

"Look, I know that I went a bit overboard with the blonde at Mode. But for my own sake I should start keeping my mouth shut and away from you. Someone is playing the snitch. This morning Averaimo was particularly annoyed at me. He was about to transfer me to another precinct."

"It's no surprise" said Beth, "he didn't look like the type of guy that would play soft with a rookie over something very grave as information leak."

"Actually he was quite happy. Everyone in the unit was. It had to be one of you who told him I had been conducting a parallel query inside that place. Like I said, I can't talk with you, guys. So if you excuse me, this conversation is over."

"Then why you didn't continue with the investigation?"

"I can't answer that."

"My aunt! My aunt paid your people to keep silent," Beth eyes opened wide. "My aunt could've paid you for—"

Pietro gasped but stood silent.

Beth looked at him and her eyes started crystallizing. Her face grew red and the little spot in her face darkened —Yes, I know what you're thinking.

"Pietro" I said. "You could've been paid to kill that man and hide the evidence."

His face turned into a state of alarm. The new detective-in-training had still a lot to learn if he could be broken down so easily by a pair of meddling busybodies.

"Man! I didn't take any money if that's what you are implying" then, he looked at Beth with disgust, "and I didn't kill your uncle. That is a serious accusation, missy.

"You must have gotten something" I said.

"Just a speed up in my promotion all we had to do was drop the files and the evidence. And yes, it was Victoria Hartley. Averaimo met with the Hartley lawyer at the office a couple of times."

Beth hands fell heavily on the table causing the ashtray and Pietro's glass to jump dangerously.

"I knew it!"

"I don't know if I can believe you anymore, Pietro." I said. "You could be lying to us to save your fat ass."

"You must believe me. I took nothing and I know nothing. I was just following orders. It came from the top. What you wanted me to do?"

"How about the security tapes?" Beth asked.

"I really can't tell you much. Just this: we really didn't found much, not even the weapon, some tapes were missing and some of the cameras, like the one in the Hartley office, weren't on that particular day."

"And why you didn't turn the cameras on after the incident happened. Was it the police's idea?"

"The son of Hartley begged us to shut down the surveillance system. He had his reasons he said. We didn't think it was going to help the investigation so we agreed."

Beth was taken aback at this and concentrated in her drink.

"Well, my friend." I said. "Now it's your change to make it right."

"What do you want, Gio? What you both want?"

"I want your help."

"You know I can't."

"Well, we can tell internal affairs of your improper behavior with a major witness and suspect on the case. Averaimo will be the least of your worries."

"You wouldn't. We're friends."

"Try us" Beth said in her glacial voice.

He looked at her and then to me.

"Gio, skirts are going to be your doom you know that."

"Yours too, it seems" I conveniently reminded him he'd been too careless as to sleep with the pretty receptionist involved in a crime.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do but I promise you nothing. Whatever you do, I don't think its going to end any good. There's people with money involved."

I called the waiter and ordered a couple drinks for Beth and me.

"Let's start with Jenny."

Pietro scuffed. He was really uncomfortable.

"Okay, Gio, let me tell you something" He lowered the voice and got closer to me. "Leave my little sister out of this. She had two days leave so she wasn't there when it all happened. You can check it in the office. It's enough the fact that she has to work in that environment, to also fall into your games, okay?"

"Why she asked for that leave? Was she sick?" asked Beth. "Did she tell you something was going to happen at Mode?"

"What is this? This is ridiculous! She was depressed, that's why. And let's leave it like that."

"Why you didn't tell me that Jenny worked at Meade?"

"I think you didn't want anyone to know about your relationship with the company" Beth said.

Pietro laughed.

"You got me there. The least thing I wanted was to be pushed out of the team. I really needed that breakthrough. But I mainly wanted to protect my sister. She's been having a rough time at Meade these days."

Beth and I looked at each other, "how so?"

"It's personal."

"No secrets, Pietro" I warned him.

"Okay, but this is not going to help you in what you're looking for. I know very little. She has a guy. She doesn't talk about it. I suspect he's married or is her boss. All I know he works at Mode and that he's loaded. I can't have him treat my sister like a common prostitute."

Daniel Meade. Must be him. I liked him and he was a great friend. But his reputation as Manhattan most prominent bachelor was unbeatable. But really, I wouldn't in a million years imagine he would have gone to sink his ink at the accounting department. He's the type who goes for supermodels.

We left the place, not before we forced Pietro to keep in touch with us.

As we traveled back to Meade Publications, Beth kept silent and didn't say a word. Her face was like carved on a rock, emotionless.

I tried to break the ice as soon as we found ourselves in the reception desk of Mode.

"Hey, I told you my age. You still owe me yours."

"Good bye, Gio" she said and disappeared from my sight.

I suddenly felt a warmth whisper breeze and the tender caress of a pair of lips against my left earlobe. It sent shivers down my spine and other sensible zones of my body.

"She's only twenty-two."

There she was, Amanda Tanen almost nibbling my ears.

"Really? Wow," I said straightening my jacket and pulling apart. "I thought she was older."

From under the desk, Marc jumped. What had he been doing down there?

"That kid just finished college. It's astonishing how this places hires people with no experience for important positions." I noticed he had a little thing in his hands. It looked like a walkie-talkie. "Okay, Mandy. Time to puff!"

"To what?" she said.

"Puff" he made a gesture as if there was a cloud of smoke around him, "disappear, vanish, like a ninja."

These guys were really weird. Amanda leaned once again until she was just a few inches distance from my face and winked at me.

"We're going to do some spy work."

Marc pulled her out of the desk and they went away.

"Hey!" I followed. "You can't do this without us."

"I didn't invite you in, pickle boy."

We entered a place full of clothes and accessories; there wasn't anyone else in but us.

"I'm not leaving until I know what you're up to."

A voice sounded through the electronic device. It was Claire Meade.

Amanda pulled something from one of the shelves and a door magically opened in front of us.

Marc stood in the way trying to prevent my entry.

"Come on! I'm part of the team" I demanded.

"Over my dead body" he challenged me.

I gave him half a smile and, raising one of my arms, I grabbed him by the waist. Like a bull, I charged and pulled him inside the room while Amanda closed the door. I threw him against a bed.

"Mmm, that was intense!" said Marc putting a curl back in place, obviously pleased.

"Give it up, fairy. He's straight." Amanda helped him out of the bed.

"What's this place?" I asked. I wouldn't have guessed a place like this existed inside that office: a bed, curtains, a bar, sex toys. The employees of Mode really knew how to pass a good time —Wait, did Betty…?

Marc turned up the volume of the transceiver. The voices in the background were from Claire Meade and Wilhelmina.

There was some talk about business and Victoria Hartley.

"How ungrateful. I kept my side of the deal. She still doesn't know about your affair with her ex-husband."

"You didn't bring me here to discuss that did you, Wilhelmina? You're much better than this. Say what you have to say."

The phone started ringing in the background. But nobody seemed to care to pick it.

"It's about the child you had with Calvin Hartley."

There was a small laugh through the speakers and Claire said.

"I told you before —"

"Claire, Claire. You're such a bad liar. I found out you never had an abortion."

There was a sudden silence. The phone started ringing again.

"The child is alive and you knew that all this time."

After a brief moment she said.

"What a shame. I would have loved to tell Cal about all this. Don't you feel a remorse he never knew he was a father?"

"I see. You really have nothing. Cal knew about this and he did as much as he could to behave like a father."

"Now, were you a mother?" Wilhelmina said, "You probably threw the baby for adoption somewhere. I'd love to find out who he is… or her. I bet it would be great scandal: Illegitimate child from Claire and Cal Hartley finally found."

"You better stay away from this. Don't you dare meddle in my affairs."

"Maybe Cal was going to come clean to the world and you decided to kill him cold."

We heard the sound of shoes and of a door closing. It seemed like Wilhelmina was left alone.

"Oh, no" Marc said biting his nails. "She has to be checking the machine messages, now. She must've found out I wasn't there to pick up the phone."

As if on cue, there was a huge yell that hurt our ears.

"Marc! Marc! Where the hell is that useless sissy!"

As swiftly as he could, Marc ran out and left Amanda and me alone inside the secret room.

"Amanda, did you tell anyone else about us and about Pietro?"

"No and I haven't seen him since that night, either."

I was puzzled and a bit worried: too much information in my head. But I had to return back to the deli, it was getting late.

I finally stood up and motioned to the door feeling suddenly a bit blue.

"I know what you're thinking,"I was getting ready for another of Amanda's silly comments but, instead, she said, "that Beth could be that child, that she's Claire and Mr. Hartley's illegitimate daughter."

I turned and looked at her in awe. It was as if she could read my mind.

"Do you think she knows?" I saw worry in her face. "I know how it feels when you don't know who your real parents are."

She probably didn't dislike Beth as much as Marc did.

"I think it's better if she doesn't know about this yet" I said before I left. "At least not until we're completely sure."

_To be continued_

Notes:

_Bambola = _(it.) doll

_alla piccola principessa = _(it.) to the little princess.

_Suppongo che non avremo mai una possibilità. _= (it.) I guess we have no chance together

_Vabbè, immagino che dovrò invece provarci con la bionda_ = (it.) Oh well, I'll have to try the blondie instead.


	10. Chapter 9

** BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter IX—

Even if I had decided not to, I found myself in the hall where Marc and Beth worked. I needed to clear something up before I leave the building.

When I entered the vestibule I saw Marc gathering some papers from the desk in front of me and at my right, Beth working something on her computer.

"Marc, I need to talk to you" I said and stood in front of him. I took a glance to Wilhelmina's office. It was empty. "Where's your boss?"

"She's out" He locked Wilhelmina's office and went back to his desk, "no time for you right now, Pickle boy".

"Where?" I asked.

Beth noticed me and walked towards us. "Did you finish the alibi confirmation?"

"I'm almost done. Who are you, my supervisor now?"

"I believe you're hiding things from us" I said.

"I am not."

He was about to walk pass us when Beth stopped him.

"I'm starting to believe you tell her everything."

"You do, eh?" Marc said. "I was sure you didn't have enough brains to even think."

"Someone told Averaimo about Pietro," I said to him, "and right now, I'm thinking it was Wilhelmina."

"Listen, I'm not telling anything to Wilhelmina" Marc insisted. "Now, if you excuse me, unlike some" he looked at Beth, "I have work to do."

We stood there and watched Marc leave.

From where I was standing I could get a good look of Beth's long reddish hair. Could she really be Mrs. Meade's daughter? Neither she or Mr. Hartley or even their offspring had that color of hair. I also wondered if that was the reason Mr. Hartley had been particularly kind with her all those years.

A metallic sound and the glitter of shining metal pulled me back to reality.

Beth had produced a small retractable knife from her pocket. Its handle was beautifully decorated with silver-plated complicated twirls and motifs and a monogram that formed E. H. The blade looked terrifyingly sharp.

"Woah! What's that? What—What are you doing?"

"Come, cover me" she hid behind me and started fiddling with the door.

"How can you have that? Are you crazy? How do you even pass security door at the entrance?"

"It's of a special material that goes undetected, an old gift from my uncle Cal. He collected spy weapons, remember? I told you before —There."

Wilhelmina's office opened before us.

Beth walked directly to the phone. I remember Marc's comment earlier when we were inside the secret room.

"She kept calling Marc so I came and found her at the phone. Then she acted very strange and left in a hurry. This is all too suspicious."

Beth pushed a few buttons and activated the last message in the machine.

We heard a male voice, a gravely one. I didn't recognize it but I found it somewhat familiar.

'Meet me at noon. Your place.'

Beth checked her wristwatch. "It's still 11:25."

Oh, what the hell! I thought. We had broken inside Wilhelmina's office we might as well go and check her out. I called Mauritzio and told him I was going to need the van.

"Wait! I don't know where she lives" Beth said.

"I know someone who does" I ran back to the elevator. "Go to the Deli and wait for me there."

I went up to her office at the twenty-eighth floor.

She was sitting on her desk in such concentration that she didn't even notice me opening the door. I took in some air and let myself watch her in silence for a few seconds.

Her naturally brown and unkempt hair fell all over her shoulders. Her poise, her dreams, her way of living, everything about her had fascinated me since I met her. She had the looks of a little girl, and she might have been so several years ago —vulnerable, insecure and unfocused— but the woman I had in front of me, even thought nobody would believe she was only twenty-six years old and already an editor of a major magazine, was something else. I knew her better. I saw the potential of doing anything she proposed to achieve within her. I wanted to believe I played a little part in that transformation.

"Betty" I walked towards her.

She did that cute reaction I liked so much.

I explained her quickly what had happened. I was getting ready a counter-response if she was going to refuse the invitation but she turned off the laptop and stood up from her chair.

"So, are we going to get some donuts like the police do on TV?"

"Hey, you're already talking about food. Is someone happy today?"

"I feel better now about all this" she told me. "I really liked last night's meeting. I'm more confident now knowing I have people I trust around me."

"Yeah, that's the spirit! Who knows? It could be off the hook" I said and offered her my arm, "and yes, we'll get you some donuts."

—0—

We arrived a few minutes after noon. I put the blame on the donuts. We couldn't spot anybody enter the building but we guessed he was still inside so we decided to wait for a while.

Beth, sitting on the passenger seat, became a bit anxious when she saw me search for something in the floor of the van, "What are you looking for?"

I pulled a bottle of wine from under my seat and she smiled. It was a sort of relief smile, like a nervous reaction.

"What? Did you think I was going to pull a weapon and kill you both?"

Betty laughed at my joke; Beth, not that much. She didn't spoke a word and kept the watch on Wilhelmina's door. She really had a strange sense of humor.

After a several of glazed donuts and a couple glasses of wine the van turned completely silent.

Betty was sitting on a cooler in the back of the van and rested her head against the wall. I had forgotten that wine always made her sleepy and had made me more perceptive because she looked more beautiful than I ever remembered.

"Are you going to eat that?" Beth told me and woke me from my contemplation. I was taken aback for a second so I agreed without thinking. I gave her the rest of the donuts box.

She was an eater. Who would have known she ate that much?

"Wow! I thought you didn't eat at all, you know, like all the other 'Mode Girls'."

"I'm not skinny because I want to. I don't like to look like this."

Then again there was a sudden silence between us.

"I have a thyroid problem" she said.

"Well, you have to do something about it. I recommend you come to Gio's Deli more often and gain some pounds. You don't look healthy."

"What about you? What's your excuse? Why you're so short? Did you forget to drink milk?"

So I've finally found a way to annoy the little princess.

"Wine suits you well" I laughed, careful not to wake Betty up. "Was that an attempt to make a joke, stuck-up missy?"

"Hey," she said, her mouth full "I do jokes. I'm a funny person."

"No. Wait" I paused and grinned. "That right now was your best one yet."

We both laughed at the same time. Yeah, the wine was really good.

Then someone left Wilhelmina's house. I reached my hand out to wake up Betty.

A man dressed in an elaborated designed suit of bold colors, a pair of shinny leather shoes and a complete mass of carefully planned outfit that would be the envy of any other gay man in Manhattan came strolling on the opposite corner where the van was parked: it was unmistakably Marc st. James.

I jumped out, ran to him and dragged him across the street to the back of my van.

"What were you doing there? You liar!"

I opened the door and shoved him inside.

"Look!" Betty pointed at the front window. I followed her finger to find out a strangely pleasant-looking detective Averaimo coming out Wilhelmina's doors, putting on his jacket and fixing his tie.

"He's coming this way!" Betty looked in horror.

"What on Earth?!" I questioned Marc. He was as surprised as we were.

"We need to get out of here" Beth jumped into the driver's seat as quickly as her skirt allowed her and turned on the engine. In the rush she ran too quickly on reverse and hit the car parked behind us.

"Oh my God! What was that?!" Marc yelled.

Detective Averaimo, amidst all the noise we were causing, ran towards us.

Beth finally managed to change gear and run forward, hitting the car in front of her.

"Now you've done it this time, silly woman" Marc looked through the window of the back door. "That was Averaimo's car!"

"Crap!" I yell as Beth hit the car for the second time. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Hurry" Betty says. "He's coming this way!"

"That's what I'm trying to do" She hit the gas pedal all the way to the floor. "What a piece of junk!"

"Hey!" I protested and then I looked through the rear mirror and I saw a car speed behind us. "Holy—! He's following us".

"What?!" Marc plastered himself against the window. "We're so doomed!"

"Come back here" I said and pulled him back. "We don't want him to recognize us."

The detective's car did a swift cut and overtook the car that was in front of him at a dangerous speed getting closer to us.

"He's police. Shouldn't we stop?" Betty said.

"Are you insane?" Beth yelled still struggling with the gear shift. "We can't do that. He'll figure out we have been spying on Wilhelmina."

"Have you been spying on Wilhelmina?" Marc said.

"You shut up. We have a pending conversation with you later" I said.

"I'll try to loose him" Beth steered the wheel and went against the traffic. We slammed ourselves against one of the walls of the van.

"First try not to break my van into pieces, okay?" I said and saw Beth gave a quick turn to the steering wheel. "Don't—don't—don't take that street."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Watch out!" Betty yelled embracing the back of the passenger seat as a car passed dangerously by our side. "You almost got us killed."

"I'm doing my best!"

"Take the next turn right!" I ordered.

"Oh my god!" Marc prayed as we both rolled against the nearest wall for the second time. Several balls of cheese and a piece of salami fell over our heads.

After a few more suicidal turns Beth did a sudden stop in a parking lot.

I jumped out of the van, opened the driver door and ordered Beth to get out.

"You're the worse driver I've ever seen in my life" Marc yelled to her. He got out and vomited on a corner. "Damn cheese!"

"Well I lost him, didn't I?." Beth said.

Betty ran to help Marc and stroked his back.

I sighed and assessed the damage. For once I was glad I haven't put the Deli Logo in the van yet.

Now I knew why the voice had seemed so familiar over the phone.

"What was detective Averaimo doing in Mrs. Slater's house?"

We all looked at Marc at the same time.

—0—

By the time we reached Meade Publications we had agreed not to meet that evening. Betty rushed to her office, she was running late for a previous engagement.

"Would you come to my office, Gio? I have something for you."

"Sure" I agreed. "Just let us have a little talk with Marc first."

I went up with Beth and Marc to Mode headquarters. The only elevator was still available. I guessed Mrs. Hartley wasn't around.

Marc finally confessed he'd been telling some things to Wilhelmina and that he initially joined us to gather what he could for her. That was how he got all that information from the police reports. But he assured us he didn't know Averaimo was in the bedroom while they were revising The Book for the next Mode issue. And yet he still wanted to be in the team. He believed everything was a serious and I wanted time to think about all he said.

The sound of the elevator indicated it was time for me to leave. Marc and Beth walked away.

Matt Hartley, Armani suited and all, came walking in my direction in all his height and power from the reception desk. His usually messy hair was neatly combed, he'd shaven properly but somehow he always managed to look troubled —or maybe that was just the way his face was.

Beth stopped by his side and called his name. He ignored her.

I stepped out of the elevator and stood in front of him.

"Hey, I think someone is calling you."

Jerk.

He turned his head slightly and said, not even looking at her "I can't speak now, Beth."

"This is important" she hesitated and took a step forward. She stopped again and she reminded me of a rabbit at a forest on a hunting day.

"Not, now. Maybe later, tonight."

He walked around me and entered the lift.

"Are you coming in?" he asked me.

"Never" I answered and the door closed between us.

Beth straightened her back, lifted her chin with pride. Her light gray eyes looked into mine as if pity was the last thing she wanted me to feel about her, "Good evening, Gio."

She left.

—0—

Betty welcomed me with a small bottle in her hands, they were sleeping pills. She was being concerned about me when she heard yesterday that I'd been having problem trying to get some rest at night.

She came closer to me and put her right hand in my cheek. She must have noticed the dark circles in my eyes.

"Please take care of yourself, Gio."

"It's okay, Betty." I wrapped her hands with mine and lingered there for a moment that felt like an eternity.

"Sometimes, I wish I could turn back time."

I saw her sorrow. I knew what was on her mind.

"Hey, we're still friends. That's a great start."

"You're a great guy" she said.

"Will you come and have lunch to the deli sometime? You know, without the rest of the 'detective squad'" she showed me her pack of metallic covered teeth in a lovely large smile. "Just you and me, like the old times. What do you say?"

She looked at me with a bit of concern.

"Hey, I'll give you a free black and white cookie —and that's my last offer."

She cracked a full smile now but still the corner of her lips had a faint touch of sadness.

"I'd like that very much."

Her phone rang.

"I need to go, Gio. I have an important appointment" She stood under the door frame and said "Hey, Gio —thank you."

I looked at her puzzled.

"It's never dull around you" she smiled. "I really had fun today. It was very 'off the hook'."

She had me smiling like an idiot for the rest of the evening.

My heart felt a breeze of hope and I still remember I told myself 'Yes, there's something missing in your life, Betty. Give me some time and I— Just, give me a little more time.'

_To be continued_


	11. Chapter 10

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter X—

_Specially dedicated to Maria_

I had spent the happiest rest of the evening. I had a very upset Mauritzio scolding me for being absent from the Deli for such a long time, a crashed van sent to the garage and plenty of deliveries and condiments to secure a long night of hard work but, in spite of all that, living felt as beautiful as summertime.

The door bell rang and Beth entered the Deli.

I was getting so used to her being around at all times that I didn't motioned to greet her. I kept working on my special pate sauce.

She placed an envelope on top of the counter.

"And this?" I asked.

"That's an engagement party invitation for tonight."

"Wow! This is a surprise, Miss Leigh" I said, trying to browse in my memory when she ever said she was seeing someone, "and who's the unfortunate fiancé?"

"Matt."

I wasn't really expecting that answer but it was nowhere near the shock I was going to get by the words that quickly followed, "Matt and Betty are getting publicly engaged tonight."

It was at that exact moment that my fresh summer day turned into a moonless cold winter night.

She kept speaking but I barely noticed anything but the movement of her poisonous lips. I still had the warmth of Betty's hand against my skin, the memory of her smile fresh inside my mind.

That couldn't be happening to me, not that evening.

"I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?" my face hardened.

She lowered her gaze.

"You're too obvious when you are around her and the way you behave around Matt."

Matt! Always matt! He seemed to be everywhere, sucking everyone's life's away, taking everything that didn't belong to him—

"I guessed you needed to know" she said quietly. "I saw you both today and I knew she hadn't told you. If it makes you feel better, I'm not going."

How dare she? Who was she to patronize me? I had also seen her act around her cousin in a way that even had made me feel uncomfortable —just like I was feeling right then when she pronounced his name: Matt Hartley. What did he have to make people admire him, devote to him, sacrifice for him—

"They've been together for quite sometime" she trailed off, mostly speaking to herself. "My uncle was recently opposed to it. Now that he's gone, so recently, unmourned —Oh, God! He's just buried and already we're celebrating. She couldn't even wait. She just had to chain Matt before my aunt could change her mind—"

"Fuck Matt Hartley!" I raised my voice and blurted the words out of my mouth. "I'm tired of his name! Matt! Matt! Matt! He's nothing but an arrogant, ego-maniac asshole!"

Her pupils dilated as she saw me breakdown for the first time in front of her.

"Oh yeah you heard me! He is a manipulator!" I continued. "He's a liar! He tells lies and everyone believes him. Oh! I know about him! I know him more than he thinks. You want to know what I think? You really want to know? I think he's the one behind all this. He's the only one that has been profiting ever since all this started."

Just as a china doll breaks and falls in a loud bang against the floor, she flew into a rage and yelled.

"Matt is not a killer! He didn't do it!"

Her roaring voice blasted the room and my ears in an echo. She looked taller and stronger panting in anger just a few steps away front of me, her hair falling over her face in a blazing array of bloody painted strands.

Then, just as abruptly as she cracked, she recomposed herself.

"I'm sorry. I'm too tired."

In front of me, on the top of the counter, rested that little white envelope that enclosed a brutal reality in its bosom: that Betty and I were never meant to be together.

"Would you take me home?" she finally asked.

"No, I can't tonight."

"Of course" she said and motioned to the door.

I cooled my head off. I'd been so childish. I didn't want her to think it was because of the stupid discussion so I tried to soften my tone with an explanation. "The van is the garage and I'm going to sleep here, so—"

A cloud passed through her face. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea. I should have said nothing.

"I'll get a taxi" she excused herself and left on her own without saying another word.

—0—

It was a cloudy night. I locked the door but didn't put the bars down, I never did when I slept inside the deli. I washed my face and my hair with warm water. Then I carefully closed all the buttons of my long sleeve shirt, put on my jeans and kept my socks. The heater was barely working and it was a cold night. I wished I would have brought more clothes to spend the night.

I was alone at my deli, alone with my thoughts.

'I wish I could turn back time'

'I'd like that very much'

'It's never dull around you'

Those words, what had Betty meant by them? Have I've been imagining things? Creating fantasies and mistaking her all over again?

I arranged the little sleeping bag in the warmest corner of the room. I gave one glance at the bottle of pills she had given to me. I took a couple of them still thinking about her. I programmed the alarm on my cellphone and put it beside me, on the floor. I threw my jacket over me and, after a little while, managed to doze off.

I woke up with a cry. Another nightmare had haunted me. It had been so vivid. I felt my heart stampede against the touch of my fingertips.

It was then that I noticed my bare chest was vulnerably exposed by my unbuttoned shirt. I couldn't remember when I had opened it. I couldn't even realize for how long I've slept. I could've sworn I've just closed my eyes.

A blast of cold draft crashed against my uncovered skin. I touched my dehydrated lips and they were sore, my head was pulsating in a mad symphony. Where the hell was my jacket?

I walked towards the main deli room to get some water and calm my thirst. What I saw through the dim lights of the neon signs froze my veins: shattered glasses all over the floor and the cold wind of the late night chilled the whole room, one of the deli windows was broken.

'I've been robbed!' was all I could think as the thrill of danger roused myself out of the stupor of my recent lethargy.

My cellphone rang.

I returned to the back room in a couple of leaps, grabbed my cellphone, put it in my ears, while I quickly grabbed a butcher's knife from the nearest table and went back to the front of the deli.

"Yes?"

I heard a sob in the other side of the line.

"Hello?" I said while I looked around. Were they still inside the deli? I tumbled to where the light switch was and lightened up the restaurant.

"Hello?" I inquired exasperated and opened the cash register. The money was all there.

"Gio?" the voice finally spoke. As if it could be possible to receive more surprises that night, I recognized the caller: it was Beth. "I don't know who else to call—"

"What's going on?" I asked, trying to divide myself in two tasks.

Her voice cracked. It was so unlike her. "I'm scared, Gio. I don't know who else to talk to. I— I got one about a month ago. I thought it'd stopped. And I got another again tonight. It's horrible."

"What you mean, Beth? What is it you are talking about?" I lifted all the tablecloths and checked under the tables.

"Another message. Another note. I don't know what to do. I'm scared."

I thought it was some sort of a joke.

"Beth, I really can't talk right now. I have a situa—"

"No! Don't hang up. Please, don't hang up." I could sense the terror in her voice. "I'm home. I'm afraid to leave the house or call the police. Can you come?"

I opened the door of the deli and walked out. It was a quiet night. Nobody walked on the sidewalk, not even taxis strolled down the street. The sky was filled with dark clouds. A haunted cold night and I was still half naked with my open shirt hanging from my shoulders.

Another sob pierced my ears. I turned and looked at the mess inside my deli. I grunted at myself and my eternal righteous disposition.

"I'll be there" I promised and pulled down the metal protective bars to close the place while I hastily instructed a very sleepy Maurizio over the phone.

In a few minutes, I called one of my uncle's service cabs and asked the driver to rush at full speed to Beth's place.

I inquired for her room number at the front door lobby of the little hotel. I rushed through the flight of stairs.

She stood before me, a horrifying look carved in her face, her hair all wet and messy, anxiety radiating from her eyes: she looked like a phantom. Her whole figure cried hopeless despair. She seemed so different of the Beth I've known so far.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

She was carrying two big purses over her slim shoulders. She had been waiting for me.

She stepped out and closed the door. "Please take me somewhere else."

She was looking nervous and unstable. I carried her luggage and helped her descend the stairs. It looked as if she was running from something or someone.

"But where?" I asked and I sat inside the taxi that waited for us outside.

"Anywhere" she said and closed her eyes, resting her head against the back of the seat.

I took her to the only place I could think of: my apartment. It had been several months since any human being, beside me, went through that door. I've isolated the place and built my own prison, more like my personal sanctuary.

After I placed her bags over my bed, I finally found time to breathe. I realized it was almost two o'clock and the headache was still torturing me. It was all so surreal. Elizabeth Leigh, a Hartley was sleeping on my bed, someone had been mysteriously broken into my deli, and all I wanted was to sleep and wake up into another day.

"Don't turn off the lights" she asked me. I was about to close the door when she called me again.

"I want you —I need you to see them" she said. Her white hands were shaking. She could barely hold the pieces of paper between her fingers. "Please."

I sat on the corner of the bed and took what she was offering me. Then I saw it, what had given me a strong impression when she opened the door of her apartment: her hair falling in long strong wet fiery curls. It was as if she were another person. The one that sat in front of me, she didn't seem so cold, so distant —she was as frightened as a cat in the rain.

"I—I've never shown them to anybody until now."

I opened the first piece of crumpled paper. It had large handwritten letters painted in red ink. The words jumped threatening in the paper:

'Elizabeth Leigh, you're nothing but a worthless being.'

My head shot up and my eyes anxiously demanded an explanation to her own.

"I got that one a month ago, at my previous apartment. Then I moved and now" she paused. "This one came by mail. I found it under my door."

My eyes lingered one more time at the message carelessly written on the second note: 'Bitch, you deserve to die'.

It wasn't the words what made my stomach flip and burn inside me...

It was Betty's handwriting.

_Will be continued_


	12. Chapter 11

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter XI—

"_Hai perso la ragione_?! The deli got robbed and you went after a chick?" Maurizio scolded me.

"We weren't robbed" I said and looked around. The Deli was already cleaned and the police had left. I had instructed Maurizio to call Pietro and the police came early that morning. He handled them well and he made all the arrangements with the insurance company. Actually, nothing was missing except my black leather jacket. I thanked God I let Mauritzio convince me to get insured. "It was just a window and it's not like the first time it happened."

I tried to show myself calm but my head was in turmoil. The tormenting thoughts of Betty and Matt Hartley's engagement, her handwriting on Beth's threatening notes kept me in a chaotic mood. On top of that, last night was the first time I'd been in a situation like that and it still gave me chills just to imagine someone broke in the Deli while I was sleeping.

Beth also collected her strength and insisted in working that Saturday. I had left Beth at Meade Publishing. She was probably better with the sharks and backstabbing bitches at Mode than alone at my place. I told her to call me when it was time to pick her up. I had already given her the keys to my apartment but I didn't want her to take the metro on her own. She showed herself as a strong woman in front of everyone else but I've seen her fragile side. Then I couldn't help but care for her. I guess that's just my nature.

"_Dio santo_!" said Mauritzio, "if you're going to grow your beard at least do it with style, _Come io. _Look at me."

Mauritzio always managed to look impeccable at all times. Charming the ladies was his favorite hobbie and it would be wise to take his advice but I wasn't up for his ramblings.

"_Stai zitto. Oggi mi sento una merda__."_

I scratched the stubble on my face. I knew I had taken an old pair of jeans, the first tshirt I found, I've neglected my shaving and my combing. It was as if I've become another person.

I heard some quick steps at my back.

"Gio. Thank God, you're all right" I heard a high pitched voice and the image of Betty appeared in front of my eyes.

There was something different in her. She had her braces removed and her smile looked as white as the exquisite pearl bracelet she now flaunted on her wrist. Those must have been gifts from the battle I had lost. I could have never been Matt Hartley. I could have never given her that kind of life.

I gathered my pride.

"I'm okay" I said. "You don't have to worry. Maybe it was some crazy drunkard."

"You're probably right" she said and then we had very little else to tell one another.

Then I remembered the threatening messages, the notes written by her. I took the moment to confront her. I showed them to her and explained how someone had left them at Beth's apartment. The envelopes had no stamps but the reception desk said they were found in her mailbox later that evening so they slip it under her door.

"Of course I didn't write this. How could you say that? I don't know for what reason but this must be someone could be pretending to be me. Even Daniel has faked my writing before" she returned the notes to me. "You don't think I would write such horrible things. What's happening with you?"

I apologized.

"You trust this Beth so much."

"I don't" I admitted. "But this looked like your writing. What did you want me to think?"

"You should know me better. And this Beth —she's so mysterious and secretive and she's been hanging around you an awfully lot lately" She looked at me in the eye. "Who is she to you now?"

"Just a friend" I say.

"Just a friend?" she said, her bangs almost covering her eyes but I could still feel the weight of her stare, "Just a friend like me? Like I was to you?"

I didn't answer that. It was not her business. She was already engaged to Hartley. She had no right. The ring on her fingers gave me the last shot of reality to my heart. How did I manage to fool myself again?

"Betty, you're engaged" the words came out against my will and there was a long moment of silence between us.

"I don't know why I didn't tell you. Maybe I didn't want to hurt you."

I saw the look Beth had feared, the shine of pity inside Betty's pretty brown eyes.

I tried to gather myself and pretended I wasn't wounded. I tried to breathe and think. Betty was out of reach. She had always been. When was I going to understand that?

"Friends don't have secrets. I need to trust you, Betty."

"I just don't trust her. She didn't even go to the engagement party. All her family was there. I feel like she's hiding something. Did she tell you what she'd been doing until she found that message? Don't you find it strange she didn't found the letter under her door until pass midnight?"

"She said she went to a bar."

"And you believed that."

To tell the truth I remember I smelled alcohol around her when I picked her up.

Betty spoke again. "I can't help it. I don't believe her one bit."

I chuckled.

"What?" she said. "Why you're laughing?"

"She said the same thing about you."

She smiled with me.

"I know. I'm sorry. This is not like me. It's probably her hair. She reminds me too much of Charlie."

I remembered Charlie, the woman that took away all hopes of happiness with her first love, Henry Grubstick. She also distrusted redheads —just like me.

"I want all this to end" Betty spoke again. "Mrs. Hartley, she's in the hospital. They say something about food poisoning but nobody tells us anything. Nobody wants me near her. They don't even let me visit her this morning. When am I going to be part of the family?"

"Mrs Hartley?" I was taken aback by the news. "Wasn't your gala at her place?"

"It wasn't a gala and yes, she arranged everything at her house and she was fine —behaving in her usual self, that is" I guessed Mrs. Hartley didn't stop tormenting Betty in public even at her own engagement party. "Matt even stayed with her. I took a taxi back home around midnight. And this morning Matt called me. This is all so awful. When am I going to be finally happy again?"

Poor Betty, I thought. It wasn't her fault that I got heartbroken again. I was the one that had imagined false hopes with her. I shouldn't hurt her because of me and my silly dreams.

I opened my arms and invited her to me. She hugged me back and I held her tightly. I knew she'd suffered enough and my heart thought it was okay that she found a little happiness even if it was with another man and not me.

Amanda and Marc found us arm in arm. Marc pulled his cellphone to take a picture but Betty was faster and jumped at him.

"Not this time. You're not going to send that to everyone at Mode."

"Spoilsport" Marc said and looked at the broken window. "Oh, I see you're redecorating… nice but that's not why we're here. We came to inform you we believe Mrs. Hartley was poisoned last night."

"That is crazy!" Betty said, covering her lips with her hands.

"And that Beth spent the night at your place" said Amanda, "but I guess you already knew that."

"What?" Betty was confused.

"Wait, where you got that from?" I frowned.

"I know everything" said Marc.

"Oh yeah? How about you tell us who the killer is, eh? Now, really, who told you about Beth?"

Amanda pointed at Mauritzio. He flinched and raised both hands.

"Hey! _Non ci posso far niente_, _cugi_! She's a good kisser."

At least I had had to acknowledge that Amanda was a professional at sucking information out of men.

"You better watch out, pickle boy" said Marc. "You don't know if she's the killer. She fills the profile perfectly: always acting high-and-mighty, almost schizophrenic. I could see her killing with no remorse and now that we know what we know, there's a motive."

"We don't know it, we suspect it." I said.

"Suspect what?" Betty was getting desperate.

"It's nothing" I glared at Marc but Amanda jumped right in.

"Beth could be Mrs. Meade and Mr. Hartley love child. We heard some talk about it."

Betty's eyes opened wide.

"But— but that would mean that she and Matt are half-siblings."

"These are just rumors" I told her. "She doesn't know anything about it. She shouldn't and neither should Matt. I know I can trust you, Betty."

"Of course" she said, still visibly confused.

"Come on, guys. We've spent too much time biting each other's tails. We are losing the focus."

"The killer is probably neither one of us and we're missing the big picture" said Amanda.

Those were the wisest words I've heard all morning.

Marc had promised to collaborate with the team and we had to take his word for it. I wasn't convinced but there wasn't much we could do by our own so we needed as much help as we could, even if that meant leaking information to Wilhelmina Slater.

He handled the list. He had double checked exact location of most suspects at the exact time of the murder and narrowed it down to those people whose alibi couldn't be confirmed by more than two people.

"I added the horoscope and the size of their shoes" said Amanda.

I rolled my eyes at her comment and proceeded to read the names of the remaining suspects: The Hartleys, the Meades, Wilhelmina and all of us were still there. Not even I could be crossed out. Mauritzio came to the deli around 8:30 that morning and only I could prove I had been sleeping the hour before.

My phone rang in my pocket and the voice of Pietro Vitelli sounded across the line.

"Can you tell me how the hell your plate number ended up in my desk this morning?"

I explained him what happened yesterday and how we found out Averaimo at Wilhelmina's office. I also thanked him for his help with the Deli.

"I had to do wonders to cover your tracks with Averaimo. The good thing is, he forgets things easily. I know for a fact he's been doing some side investigation on lady Meade's past life. He's probably doing it for that woman, Slater. Doing it all by himself. Just telling you in case you wanted to know.

"Also, the weapon ballistic was done. I know Averaimo halted the process but the technician is a good friend of mine, you know. She has the largest pair of breasts I've ever—"

"Pietro, the weapon. Focus!" I urged him.

"It's a rare and unique model, probably a collector's item, a custom made weapon made to resemble a Russian old spy model. Really fancy, palm size, silenced ammunition, special alloy that cracks detectors, must've cost a fortune to make. That's all the specs we could get. I checked the registry. Now, don't fall from your chair. It was ordered for a Calvin Hartley and registered —let me see— on March 17 of 1996."

I wrote it all down on a paper. We were still on a dead end at least we know he was killed with a weapon he made for himself thirteen years ago.

"How about about the death of the girl on Thursday. Anything on that?"

"Our desk is not the one working with that murder or the rest of the girls. Everyone is saying they are unrelated. Different situations"

"I don't recognize the last one but the previous two, I remember their faces, they used to come to Gio's Deli so they must work nearby."

"We already knew that. They were all found around the area. Some were stabbed some were hit by a blunt object, some were strangled with a rope. It was on the news. They all worked in publishing houses but there's nothing else that would imply they were murdered by the same person."

I thanked Pietro and explained to the rest of the guys what he told me. Amanda's face lightened up.

"That's just a few days before Matt's birthday. Look!" her well polished nail pointed at Mathew Hartley's name. "March 25."

We all looked at each other.

1996. His sixteenth birthday.

"We need to have a serious conversation with that man right now" I said.

"You don't think—This is impossible. He isn't even here today" Betty said.

Lucky bastard.

"I guess we'll have to deal with him later, then" I said.

—0—

The rest of the Saturday passed uneventfully. I spent it supervising the details on the installation of the new window and, later on the evening, I picked up Beth from work.

I had dinner ready by the time Beth came out of the bathroom, her hair perfectly straight again, all long and reddish and very unlike the Meades.

"Why are you called Leigh and not Hartley?" I asked her.

"It's my father's name"

"I thought you've never met your—"

"I never did. I've met part of his family" she said. "Yes. I'm still 'The Bastard Hartley'. Mother and Father never married and I heard he died a few years after I was born. I lived as Beth Hartley most my life but when I was sent to Seattle" she paused and quickly added "—to study, I insisted in changing my name. I hated so much to be a Hartley."

I kept at eating my dinner in silence.

"Aren't you going to ask why I chose to have the name of the guy that abandoned me instead of the one of my own family?"

"Hey. You must have your reason. I am nobody to judge what you did with your own life."

It was her turn to be silent.

"So, you're from Seattle. That's quite far, wouldn't have guessed."

"My father's family is from there. So yes I've been living there for quite some time. Until I came here."

We finished dinner and she offered to clean the dishes.

It was my turn to use the bathroom and it seemed like it had been suddenly conquered by her. Her toiletries were all over the place, invading my space. I touched a pair of hair straighteners. I took the flat iron in my hand and eyed it with curiosity. 'So that's the thing that kills those pretty curls. What a shame'. My mind drifted to the memory of her long hair ablaze in lively spiral waves falling all over her lean shoulders—

"What the hell am I thinking?" I punched myself and resumed my shower.

I made a mental note to try to wake up early and bathe before her. I smelled her all over the small room, her perfume stenciled on the walls. It was affecting me more than I wanted. Maybe I've been alone for too long.

I came out of the room wearing my boxers and undershirt and was going to prepare the sofa to sleep when I noticed she was going through my things in a far away corner of the living room.

She touched one clipping held in a delicate glass frame and read it with curiosity. I knew every word of that article by heart. 'Young at any age' said the title in lively colors. She put it back into place and kneeled down to check a pile of old newspapers resting carelessly on the floor. She gave a little gasp: they were all the same newspaper dated the same day two months ago, the same article she saw me destroy at the deli. On top of them was another framed note.

"Oh my God, Gio" She yelped. I'd made my presence known with a cough.

"You scared me" she continued and bolted up. She held a crystal frame in her hands. The frame carried a little note written in the same penmanship of her threatening messages. It was one of my little treasures, that little letter Betty wrote to me when she was crazy poisoned in perfume almost two years ago.

"Why you didn't tell me you recognized it?"

"I'm sorry you had to see that" I just managed to say and took the frame from her hands. I sat on the couch and placed the cup of tea in the table. I was too calm I even scared myself. Everything was a cloud in my head when I saw those pictures.

I informed her of my little exchange with Betty. She didn't seem to pay attention and asked me to forget it and not to talk with anyone else about it. She informed me she was going to start looking for an apartment next Monday and she'll try to be as little of a nuisance as possible. I sensed some anxiety on the tone of her voice.

"Gio… you must get help" she picked one of the many newspapers, the same picture of Betty and Matt, smiling devilishly at me, mocking me— but this time foul words in bold red ink, terrible markings and doodles disfigured the picture. She grabbed another article and it had been poked with a pencil; another one and the picture had been shredded into pieces with something sharp. Of course I already knew it. I had done it myself with a kitchen knife.

"You must get help" she repeated, looking at me with her transparent eyes. She was killing me. I didn't want her to find out about my obsession. It made me feel weak to have my secret revealed in that way. I could only imagine what she must have been thinking. My head started spinning.

"I'm not crazy!" I said with indignation and it almost sounded as if I was trying to convince myself. "I am not crazy."

"But this is not normal" she said and grabbed another article. It had the words 'I love you' 'I hate you' written all over it.

"None of your business, Beth" I managed to say as calmly as I could.

"You must get help. You can't… live like this." She said and touched my knee.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" I slapped her hand in a sudden reaction. "You don't have a fucking idea, do you?"

She sensed my anger. She stood up and eyed me with determination.

"You must get professional help. This was my mother's doctor" she placed a card on the table. "I've known her better than most of my family. She's okay."

"I'm not going to see any shrink."

"Just think about it" she said. "Please."

She went straight to my room.

"I think I will stay in your room tonight and will lock the door" she said. "Good night, Gio."

—0—

I considered going back to my Mother's home but I scratched the idea. I didn't have the van and it was easier to get the metro lines to the deli.

I just didn't want to face Beth and any more of her judgmental comments on my life. I turned my phone to silent and, while I was on my way to my favorite bar in Manhattan, I passed near the Meade building. I turned back as I heard some steps but there was nobody behind me. I felt uneasy. I could almost swear someone was following me.

I blamed my imagination, the damned nightmares and my fears. I hurried my walk and entered the bar. I wanted to drawn them all in alcohol.

I drank my heart away. I wanted to forget about the article and the faces of Betty and her fiance, Matt. I wanted to cast away their stupid expression of happiness printed in that paper and my mind.

Even worse, I couldn't erase it from my head or the idea that was roaming my brain as of late… the fact that all the murders started happening exactly two months ago.

I ordered another round of whisky. It was a horrible coincidence the realization that something always seemed to happen those nights I had the nightmares.

I was afraid to go to sleep. I was afraid something tragic would happen if I closed my eyes.

I heard some giggles and I could barely look at the corner of the bar. I was totally wasted. I couldn't recognize the faces but I think there were some party girls. I didn't even try to make my moves on them. Not only I wasn't in the mood—or the condition—but I had someone living in my apartment and I wasn't even sleeping with her. Talk about leading a shitty life.

The rest of my memories were fuzzy from then on. All I was certain is that there was a scream. That woman's cry of horror was still ringing in my ears.

_To be continued... later_

Notes:

"Hai perso la ragione?" = (it.) Are you out of your mind?

"_Dio santo_!" = (it.) My God!

"_Come io" _= (it.) Like me.

"_Stai zitto. Oggi mi sento una merda__" _= (it.) Be quiet. I feel like shit, today.

"_Non ci posso far niente" _= (it.) I couldn't help it.

* * *

**Edited: Fixed several mistakes. Betty and Beth's name are similar and I keep confusing them. :D Thanks, Maria.**


	13. Chapter 12

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter XII—

A door opened and the noise of people yelling and complaining broke the awkward silence surrounding us. It seemed that two new arrivals waited to be processed in the contiguous room.

I rubbed my eyes with my fingers, my head was still spinning, and I was feeling nauseous. The cup of that disgusting liquid that Pietro shamefully called coffee wasn't helping me at all. I've never been in a police station before and it didn't take me long to find out it wasn't the best place to have a hangover.

The buzz and the voices silenced like magic. I looked up. Beth was standing tall by the closed door. She wore sweat pants, those I knew she used when she was at home, and my oversized raincoat that I kept hanging near the entrance. Her hair was messy; no make up, the freckles dancing all over her pale, worn-out sleepy face.

—Wait! What on Earth was she doing there? I turned to Mauritzio for an answer.

"Don't blame me" he said, raising both arms. "She called me."

"I found his number in your address book" she said as she came to us. "I called him when I noticed you didn't arrive at home."

"What's this, Gio?" Pietro frowned, "you're living together, now?"

"Long story. Long story—" I grunted. "Can we talk about that later?"

Beth looked to the woman sitting right next to her, in front of me. She must have recognized her from the office. Of course, she wasn't in her best. Jenny Vitelli had a minor injury in the head, her body covered with dirt and was shaking cold inside that little party dress she was wearing. .

"What happened?" Beth asked Mauritzio.

He did his best to explain that we just arrived from the hospital because we found Jenny in the streets just a few hours ago after someone tried to mug her.

"We don't know if it was a mugger" I said, taking another sip of that awful coffee, "or what could've happened if I hadn't shown up."

"They took her purse," Mauritzio said, "no?"

"But it was left on the sidewalk just a few feet away, all the money still inside" said Pietro checking something in the computer. "Okay, Jenny, I'm going to finish your declaration by myself. Do you feel better now? Can you talk?"

She nodded. It was clear to see she was still uneasy.

"Tell me what you remember about the attacker."

Her shaky hand positioned her black-rimmed glasses in place. One of the crystals had a little crack. They must have fallen to the floor while she struggled for her life.

"Very little, I couldn't see him at all. I told you all I remembered. I was walking towards the metro station when I heard someone calling for help. It was a strange voice coming from a corner. The alley was dark so I didn't venture in."

"A creepy voice?" her brother asked.

"Like an old person, an old man or something. I can't tell… It really was very odd."

"Are you sure it was a male voice?"

"I think it was. But it could have been someone faking it. I don't know" she said. "Like someone hurt or dying. It was so sad."

"Then?"

"Then I don't remember much. I should have ran but I asked if he was alright. The voice asked for help again. It was as if he was suffocating, having a hard time to breathe. I got a little closer trying to see where the person was but it was very dark."

"That was very careless of you" Pietro said.

"I couldn't help it. He just kept calling for help. What could I've done?"

"Then what?"

"Someone pulled me down by the hair. It all happened so fast. I cried for help and then something hit me" She said touching her bandaged head. "Next thing I remember I was in the hospital with Gio and him" she pointed at Mauritzio.

"You didn't see a face? Anything? And God! what were you doing walking alone so late at night?"

"I just came from seeing someone. I already told you that" she blushed, tears still covering her face.

"And he couldn't walk you home or even to the fucking train station? What kind of son of a bitch is he?!"

"Pietro, please" Jenny whispered and hid her face in her hands.

"You were just a few blocks from Meade. You were there, weren't you?"

Jenny avoided his brother's stare.

"She doesn't tell me. She knows better" Pietro hit the desk with his fist. "Because I'd kill him!"

"Come on, man," I said, "easy."

"You're pregnant. Aren't you? How are you going to tell everyone?" Pietro yelled at her. I don't think I've ever seen him lose his temper like that but I reckon he had a soft spot for his younger sister. "He knocked you up and left you alone! Fucking bastard!"

"Stop!" a loud cry echoed in the office.

But it wasn't Jenny who yelled. I looked over my shoulders and Beth was standing behind me, her eyes watered with emotion.

"Stop, please. You're hurting her. Are you blind? You're family! It's not fair" her voice changed into a softer tone but was still shaky and commanding when she spoke to Pietro "Look at her, she's trembling."

So Beth did have a soft side after all. Mauritzio tried to put his hands on her shoulders but she motioned away from him.

"Jenny. I'm sorry. I'll take you home now" said Pietro to his sister. "I think we're done with you. Let me finish with these two, okay?"

After signing her declaration, one of the female officers came to help her stand up and accompany her to the ladies room.

"I'm not pregnant, Pietro. I just don't want to talk about this, now" Jenny gave me a kiss before leaving. "Thank you, Gio. You saved my life."

While I felt her lips touch my cheek, I had a sudden déjà-vu. Beth, who rarely let anyone get too close to her, had also kissed me, once. I'd almost forgotten it.

"Wow!" I chuckled while I followed Jenny with my eyes as she left the room. "Can I still be a hero even if I was drunk?"

"_D__ecisamente no!_ I'm the damn hero of this story. So unfair! I rescued you _è la fanciulla in pericolo _and you get all the credit!

"I've always been the cutest. They like me more" I found strength enough to tease him a little. "Like a… _Don Giovanni_."

"Eh, eh! _Don Giovanni voi?_!" He said patting me on the head with more strength that I would have wanted to. "_Basso, io sono Don Giovanni!"_

Pietro clapped his hands and shut us up.

"Gio, you first, tell me what the hell happened."

"Honestly Pietro. I have very little recollection of what happened there" I tried to place the empty cup in the desk but it fell from my clumsy hands, splashing its content on the floor.

"Where you driving in that condition?" I felt the disapproving eyes of Pietro and Beth fall upon me.

"Listen. This is not usual in me."

It was Mauritzio's turn to throw me his judgmental stare.

"Fine. I've been having a couple of drinks every now and then these days. And I went to this bar, okay? I wasn't driving!"

"Were you planning to get wasted?" Pietro started typing something in the computer. I tried to look but he shoved me away.

"Sort of" I admitted my clumsy tongue made it difficult to speak. "Come on. I'm a guy, what's wrong with a few beers?"

"That turned into too many."

"Pietro, I don't think that's the way to treat the man who just saved your sister."

"Just tell me anything you remember."

"Well, I was about to pay and leave the place. So I called Mauritzio to pick me up."

"You should've seen him when I found him" he laughed.

"Not helping."

Pietro asked me to be quiet.

"Did you go with the van? Don't tell me I'll have to enter the plate number in the system after all I did trying to cover you with the boss."

"No, because I don't have the keys. So I went on foot."

"It's also in the garage, Pietro. We don't have the van these days."

"But you live in Queens, too. Am I right, Mauritzio?"

"Well, to tell the truth I stayed the night somewhere else" He passed his finger through his light brown hair. "So I was already in Manhattan, quite nearby."

I mentally smiled and guessed that Amanda had successfully worked her charms on him —or was it the other way around?

"Pretty damn lucky coincidence" Pietro said with irony. "What else?"

"Um, So I came to pick him up and then he said he needed to go to the toilet before we leave. So I waited. I was getting impatient when I saw it had taken him too long."

"How long you've waited?"

"I don't know. Maybe, ten, fifteen minutes?"

"That's an awful lot of time. What the hell were you doing, Gio?"

"I think I mistook the door of the bathroom with the emergency door."

"They're side by side" Maurtizio added "at the far corner of the place. I didn't hear anything. I had no idea."

"I must have been pretty bad. I barely realized I'd tumbled outside the place. And it was so freaking dark I couldn't see anything. I could barely notice a bit of clear light from my left, where alley ended on the street. Anyway, I was already there and, since the door didn't open from the outside, I rested against the nearest wall and decided to take a leak. I think I dozed off for a moment."

Mauritzio chuckled.

"Okay, Okay. I was a bit drunk" I tried to justify myself. "I don't know how long I was resting against the wall but I was abruptly woken by a woman's cry, so loud and frightened that it made my skin crawl. I'm telling you, it's not a pleasant feeling to wake up in such way. I sensed two people struggling a few meters away from me. Close to the sidewalk entrance of the alley. I heard a sound and one of them fell to the floor. I shouted something and the other shadow quickly ran and disappeared. Then I found your sister lying unconscious on the floor."

"What did you do?"

"I yelled for help myself and called Maurtizio aloud, I think. Really pointless and stupid. He was inside the bar. I guess I wasn't thinking clearly. Then I searched for my cellphone and managed to click redial. He answered after several tries and came for us."

"Why didn't you answer the phone the first time?"

"Oh well. I—I thought it was someone else. You know, she's a real pain in the neck, that chick. So I ignored it. But then I saw it was Gio. I ran to the bathroom and then he sort of explained he was in the back alley. I couldn't understand him clearly but I finally found them and then I called and ambulance. That's pretty much it."

"Should've called the police"

"Hey man! I did what I could. I had a drunken man and an injured lady. Don't blame _il vero eroe_!"

"You're telling me, Gio, you couldn't recognize anything about the attacker?"

It was frustrating. My mind was totally blocked.

"I only remembered a shadow and I can't make anything of it."

And yet something about the shadow made me feel uneasy and anxious, just like my nightmares, a strange disturbing feeling.

Pietro let us go and Mauritzio got a cab to make sure Beth and I arrived safely to my apartment. I turned to face her, prepared for a lecture. But she didn't say anything at all. The disappointment in her grey eyes told me all I needed to know.

She didn't go to the bedroom. Instead, she laid on the sofa, cuddled between the sheets, and muttered a quiet good night.

—0—

The next morning I woke up into an empty apartment. Only Beth's spirit was left hanging in the air of the rooms. You could tell she'd been there in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the tidy living room, where the sheets were carefully folded on the sofa. It looked like she had woken up earlier than me and I didn't see her until very late that Sunday. What was she thinking of me? What kind of man she thought I was?

I guess it was somehow a relief. I didn't want to see her judgmental eyes. I used to laugh when Betty gave me that look at me; with Beth, it just hurt.

I took some time to gather all the newspapers and the framed articles and hid them inside a box. I didn't find courage to throw them out just yet.

I found myself bored with nothing to do for the rest of the day but I had no idea what possessed me to dial the phone number I had on top of the coffee table of the living room. It was Sunday but I found myself in a desperate need to make an appointment to meet the shrink as quickly as possible to be able to face Beth again. It must sound funny the idea of me, a street-wise strong guy from Queens, being afraid to face a skinny girl who was five years younger than me.

But I was.

I called the doctor on a Sunday but I was surprised that not only she agreed to take me but, as soon as I told her I was friend of Beth, she booked me for the next afternoon. It was amazing how easily the Hartleys opened doors in this town.

So, against my usual judgment, I went to her office that Monday, partially out curiosity, partially to please Beth but mostly, trying to find a way to get out of the dark days I've been living. I wanted so badly to rest again, to be who I used to be.

I told her about Betty and Matt, my hate, my unrequited love, about my frustration and my failed hopes. I told her about the nightmares I've been having for the past few weeks, ever since I've read that article on the paper that opened a wound I thought was long closed. How I always thought Betty would come back. That I'd just had to wait and she'd come back to me, that everything would be back like it was before and nothing would have changed between us. Nothing would have changed at all...

I told her I didn't believe in premonition or all that crap my mother kept telling me about. The psychoanalyst explained to me, in some ridiculous wording, that it could be my subconscious telling me something or communicating my fears through images. She told me I should face my fears. I thought I had wasted a my time and money by coming to see her.

"Close your eyes and try to remember that dream."

I did as she asked and I flinched for a second as the images came back to me. There was that bloody room and the people I've met in my dreams over and over for endless nights.

"Look at the scene and tell me how do you feel about yourself."

I told her that sometimes I don't recognize the man in my dreams. I know it's supposed to be me and he looks like me physically, but the feelings inside of him and that frightening face—its just not my nature to have those feelings. It's somehow disturbing how he doesn't care about the death of the person in the floor. He's cold and I can feel his mind thinking of million ways to kill someone.

"How you feel about the murderer? Do you know that person?"

The woman of my nightmares kept changing shapes and voices. I told her I couldn't see her features clearly but that I was certain that she was someone very important to me, that at times I imagined it's someone else; and that sometimes, she's Betty.

"Do you feel scared or disgusted by what she did? What do you feel when you look at her?"

I paused a moment and closed my eyes tighter. The feeling came back to me opened and clear. I feared I was probably going to say the sappiest words she would ever hear in her professional life.

"I feel love" I said.

Man! I felt embarrassed the very moment the words came out of my mouth. But I knew that was love. I was certain that was the void I felt that sucked my insides.

"You feel love" she said and wrote something on her pad.

"Listen, I know it's silly. But I don't want to run or escape from her. For a moment, I don't even care for the blood or the murdered person in the floor. I just feel the need to protect her above everything else, that I have the urge to do something, anything, to save her even if she doesn't want me to. "

The voice in my dreams came to me clearly as if someone just whispered the words against my ears:

'I'm sorry'.

It was always so painful. My heart sank inside my chest; it took the air out of me.

"Could we change the subject?" I begged the doctor.

I asked her about the memory blackouts, about my sudden outburst of rage and swings of mood. I wondered if it was some sort of premature Alzheimer. She said it was some sort of a emotional phase, a sort defense system I've developed. I wasn't sure I was relieved or more worried. But she insisted it usually happened after the high exposure of stress conditions and high doses of alcohol or maybe my brain was trying to erase some unpleasant memories.

I stared at my hands for a moment. What if I became more violent over time? What if I already had? What if I did something terrible and couldn't remember?

"Tell me doctor," I asked nervously "would I be able to kill someone in this 'emotional phase'?"

"Do you feel like wanting to kill someone, Gio? Do you want to talk about it?"

I don't think she really understood my question. I moved uncomfortably in the seat and ran a finger through my drenched forehead. I was sweating.

"Doctor, would it be possible for me to hurt someone and not remember anything about it?"

There, I've finally said it. I let out the fear that had been tormenting my mind for days: what if I was the killer?

_Will be continued_

… _right after I update some of my other fics_

Notes:

_"D__ecisamente no!" _= (it.) Of course not!

_"è la fanciulla in pericolo_"= (it.) And the damsel in distress.

"_Basso, io sono Don Giovanni!" _= (it.) Shorty, I am Don Juan (Casanova)

"_Il vero eroe"_ = (it.) The true hero.


	14. Chapter 13

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter XIII—

_For Katrina. _

_Because sometimes we just need a punching-bag._

It was early that Friday morning and, like every day for the last seven days, I made sure Beth arrived safely to her office. Jenny Vitelli was waiting for us, carrying a little box with the few belongings she collected in her brief stay at Meade Publications.

She came closer to me and gave me a little kiss. She picked a little 'Hello Kitty' Doll from inside the box and gave it to Beth.

"Something to remember me by" she said and then, lowered her voice, ""thanks for not telling my brother."

"You'll have to, eventually."

"I know." Her face saddened.

"It's going to be okay" Beth said. "I'm really proud of you."

"Thank you" she said and hugged Beth.

I felt out of the picture. It was like they spoke in a secret language forbidden to me, two total strangers that, for an unknown reason, had developed an invisible bond between them.

"I guess this is it" she continued. "I can't stay in this office anymore. I'm going to go back and work in Brooklyn."

"I'm sorry" was all I could say.

"I promise. I'll visit" Beth said quite inarticulately. "This—it's not fair. I—"

"Don't worry about me. I made my choice. And Brooklyn is fine. I need to start somewhere. Well, goodbye and thank you, again."

She was about to leave, then she turned back.

"My brother told me you wanted to know anything related to Mr. Hartley. Perhaps, I could tell you a little something in return for all your kindness. While I was doing the accounts I noticed there were regular movements flowing from Cal Hartley's account into Claire Meade's. It wouldn't have meant anything really, but the amounts drastically increased in the past month. I did some individual checking on the books and found it particularly abnormal that equal amount of funds ended filling Daniel's expense account."

"I see" Beth said. "Thanks. I'm sure that information will be useful to us."

"I'll see you later, then."

After saying those words, she left.

"Did she ever tell you who she was having an affair with?" I said, staring through the glass that separated us from the office of the editor-in-chief of Mode. "Daniel isn't coming today either, is he?"

"He's got the whole week off. He'll be back by Monday."

Strange. Mode in such state and my friend constantly disappearing.

"He's still on the list. You know?" Beth added. "I've been checking his finances and he's a mess. I'm so glad I didn't agree to do his personal finances."

She was definitely not Betty.

"You don't have the needed vocation to be an assistant, do you?"

"If by that you mean whether I was born to work like this forever, you're probably right."

"You really are working to launch your own magazine, aren't you?" I recalled the projects she once showed me on her briefcase. "So, what's keeping you?"

"The right time and some funding" she said, "just to find the perfect timing."

Beth pushed me away from her desk. I had been comfortably sitting near her.

"Enough talk. I got work to do. I'll see you at lunch. And, Gio," She said and focused in her computer, "about Jenny. I don't think we should talk about her affairs if she doesn't want to. We must respect her privacy."

So she knew. I also figured she wasn't going to tell me.

At least I was glad she wasn't scare of me. We had grown somewhat fonder of each other since I left the doctor's office. That day I arrived home with no answers and feeling more confused than I could ever be. But Beth was there, waiting for me. The house was clean; the box of newspapers, gone and I didn't dare protest. Instead, I talked and she patiently listened to my open mind all through that night and every following night. Our usual routine: we ate dinner at the small kitchen table, I spoke and she mostly listened until we hit late hours and it was time to sleep.

Those conversations made me I realize I'd been on my own for too long.

And little by little, the nightmares started disappearing. I guess had no real use for a shrink. It hit me that probably all I needed was someone who would listen to me for a change. I've always been a good listener, they always said, but who ever listened to me? Who ever took care of me?

Suddenly, I didn't mind the red in her head that much.

After the lunch rush, the Detective Squad agreed to meet at my Deli. Beth, Marc and I were already reviewing some material Pietro had recently handled to us when we a sudden shout of horror made us jump in our seats.

The first thing that caught my eye was the shinning glitter of a butcher's knife right in front of our noses.

"_Attento!"_ Maurizo cried trying not to harm the careless Amanda with the sharp edge of the knife he was holding. He quickly made some fancy move and slipped it safely into a side sleeve of his apron as if it was a pistol holster.

Then, he grabbed Amanda by the waist and kissed her fully on the lips.

"Babe, you could get killed" he unplugged one of earbuds off her ears so she could listen better. "Pay more attention next time."

"Oh dear! What was that all about?" Amanda giggled. "That thing you just did was kind of hot."

"What? This?" he said with a smug smile, taking the knife again and playing a bit with it "I studied in Modena for a while."

"And that is—"

"An Italian Military Academy" I said, sitting back straight on my chair. "He got kicked out for his violent character and —what was it again? Insubordination."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, clearly not understanding the word.

"That means —how you say?" he leaned closer to her and whispered "a rebel without a cause, babe."

Even Beth had to smile at Maurizo's silly flirting.

"He's all talk" I said "and quite tamed. He follows my orders like an obedient puppy dog."

Amanda checked his well-trained buttock while my cousin returned to his place behind the Deli counter.

"A dog with a nice tail!" she said "Yeah, I think my Maury would make a good killer. Sometimes, in these types of stories, the killer is the cutest one."

"Does that make me the primary subject?'" I claimed with a smile.

"You wish" Beth raised an eyebrow.

"I know you find me cute enough" I slowly caressed my beard, now thicker and better trimmed, "you like me, just admit it."

"Get over yourself."

"Okay, boring" Marc yawned and opened some space for Amanda to take a seat.

"Look at this, Marc!" she waved her hands in excitement. "The best invention since Wonderbra: audiobooks! Now I can actually read the whole thing!"

"Congratulations on your recent discovery but," noted Beth, "I don't think you're actually 'reading' when you're 'listening' to audiobooks."

"Nobody asked your opinion, Pipi Longstocking, really" Marc added.

"Listening, reading, whatever" Amanda pursed her lips and fiddled with her little ipod. "I was just at the part where the mysterious killer cut the whole body of a victim into little pieces except her feet and her shoes. Isn't it weird? I always thought that accessories were clues! Wait—I'll have to listen to it again."

"You're sick" said Beth.

"Oh, you have no idea how fun are these mystery novels! And this, what we're doing, is all fun! As long as I know I'll never be the victim."

"You know," Beth stared at Amanda's frivolity for a while and then said, "you could both fit the killer bill nicely, murdering all these people just for the sake of some fun, setting your detective fantasy for your own pleasure."

"Oh that's ridiculous" Amanda said, non-plussed, grabbed a huge chunk of chocolate biscuit and shoved it into her mouth. "Mmm, well, maybe for a pair of Manolo Shoes."

Or for food, apparently.

"No new murders, nothing" Marc said finishing the newspaper.

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" said Amanda still chewing.

"No, something is not right. It's too quiet."

I knew what Marc meant. Nothing abnormal had happened in the past week: the usual reports from the police but nothing else. Slowly, the confidence returned to the people at Mode. Even my nightmares had been disappearing and I could relax a bit, except a certain growing feeling that I've been watched or followed.

"Do you think the killer is done?" Amanda insisted. "Maybe he's moved from city or lost interest."

"Maybe he's just distracted with something else" I said.

"You know, in the books, when everything is calm like this, it's usually the time for another murder."

"What if he's just angry at his two recent failed attempts? What if he's replanning his next move?" Beth said. "I don't think this is over."

"We're still not sure he's the same killer" said Marc.

It was frustrating! It was as if we were sitting in a big pile of useless clues!

"One thing I do believe" he continued, "he's losing the faith in himself. Maybe something is troubling him, making him sloppy."

"Maybe he's just human" I said.

"No, he's not human" Beth stated, "he's a monster."

"Maybe he has no reason to keep on killing" Amanda spoke, "maybe he or she killed for love".

Maurizo came and served some food on the table.

"Hey, Maury. Would you kill for love?" Amanda asked him, playfully.

Maurizo, taken by surprise, frowned slightly and spoke with that voice he used when he's really serious.

"I think I would."

I couldn't agree with him. A man should have enough integrity to separate himself from the rest of the animals. Nobody had right to terminate someone's life , not even in self defense. Not even for love. I was resolute about that.

—0—

We still had to check the reason why the security camera was off the day of the murder and it was about time we extended our field research towards the security office. I didn't want to involve Antonio and I was glad that Amanda knew one of the guys and he let us in. But he wasn't of much help.

"I'm telling you we have no idea what happened. The police checked the camera and it was okay."

"Could we talk with the person in charge of the surveillance system?"

"We don't have anybody, yet. The last replacement left a couple of days ago. His name was Timothy. The seat is empty. Nobody really wants it. It's cursed, that's what we say."

My eyes caught a document on the top of the counter.

"What's that for?"

"That's the dispatch form for the surveillance tapes."

"Can I?" I studied the document, specially the Mode section and Mr. Hartley's office. The police department investigation officers' names were all over it. I flipped a few pages down to check older dates and my eyes caught a familiar name.

Marc st. James.

We made him confess appealing to the promise of complete sincerity he made when we let him join us again. He admitted he'd been taking out certain recordings for Wilhelmina.

"Did she destroy them?"

"No. She kept hem on the secret security box in her office."

"The offices have secret security boxes?!" I asked while my mind worked on something.

"Only Willy, Daniel and Matt Hartley have them at Mode" said Marc. "I know where you're coming from, Sherlock, but the police already knew. And they revised everything from inside each of them the day of the murder."

"So they have the tapes" Beth asked and Marc nodded.

"Why were you hiding them? What was in them?"

"It had nothing to deal with the murder, if that's what you're all thinking. It was… They had special footage that Willy didn't feel like wanting to make public."

"Speak clearly!" Beth ordered.

"Okay! She was using his office for some … mmm… private meetings?"

Beth and I looked at each other. Her face was turning red in anger.

"But, why would Wilhelmina use Mr. Hartley's office when she always had the sex room?"

"Amanda, can't you see?" Beth said. "Wilhelmina Slater was having an affair with my uncle."

—0—

"Betty was right. It's always been her" Beth said resting her head against the counter "I can't believe this."

Marc stepped forward.

"So what? Mr. Hartley always had a reputation."

"What do you know? Isn't it obvious? She had him all this time on her hands. She used him to her will. My uncle trusted her but she wanted more—"

A phone rang in the room, interrupting her.

"Beth, we really know nothing" I said but she shoved me away.

"Miss Leigh, you're urgently requested at your desk" said the surveillance officer.

"Who calls? I'm kind of busy now."

"Mr. Hartley, personally, miss."

Beth had to answer her cousin's call and went up. While the rest of the Detective Squad left to their working stations it occurred to me that Betty could give us a hand using her connections. Also, she hadn't been able to go down and meet us today and I felt like paying her a little visit. But right after I made sure Beth was alright.

The air inside Mode was lighter and the confidence seemed to have returned to its walls and its people, at least. The cameras kept flashing, the spaghetti models and the racks kept strolling on the corridors, and nothing resembled the earlier chaos they've been through.

Just as I let my guard down, I spotted Wilhelmina Slater walking my way.

I quickly realized I wasn't going to avoid her encounter. I cursed and tried to hide in the nearest racket of designer's coats.

I worked hard to distinguish her loud steps between the chatter and noises of the office. When I couldn't hear them anymore, I stepped out of my hiding and brushed the mountain of animal fur out of me. When I finally looked up, I found myself in front of her, standing tall right before my eyes.

"Please, don't underestimate me. I can smell the stench of synthetic leather in that jacket a mile away."

That was totally uncalled for.

"There's no reason to be afraid of me, boy" she said. "I know what you're playing with my assistant, and I don't care. I already found what I was looking for. So, I was going to give this to Marc, but that slacker is nowhere to be found, probably playing Pink Panther with Nancy Drew. Why don't you give it to him personally?"

She placed a little folder in the nearest desk.

"What's that?" I asked with caution.

"The report I once requested from the elevator and camera malfunction. I have no use for it now."

"But you said nothing was wrong with it. That it was an accident."

"I know what I said" she spoke with that voice of her that gave me chills. "But do you want to know what I didn't say?"

I gave a quick read to the report. They found a little exploding device that caused the cables to snap. That must have caused the sound we heard when we were trapped inside the lift.

"Someone reprogrammed the camera and tampered with the brake system!"

"Well, well, you can read."

"Why this wasn't given to the police. Why—?"

"The police does what we tell them to do. Take your little police friend, for example. He's been very helpful so it's okay to let him slip information to you. He's okay as long as I say he's okay. Just remember, I'm not getting on your way as long as you don't get in mine."

"Is this a bribe or a warning?"

"Take it however you like. I'm just having fun with this, that's all."

Fun. Just like Amanda had said. I took the file with me and I hadn't reached my destination when a couple of Modies walked fast towards me as if avoiding something. I was soon to know the cause of it.

"The only think I've ever asked you to do!" Matt Hartley roared.

"I—I've been trying to talk to you about this" her cousin was pledging when she noticed my presence, standing just a few steps away. She looked at me for a second and then said to Matt with a steady voice "You never gave me the chance."

"You're useless!" he was so mad he didn't care for my presence. "What am I going to do now?"

"You?! You?!" She turned into a rage. "How about me? Bastard!"

"No, you bastard!" He threw a look at her a smirk appeared in his features. "Who do you think you are? You have nothing, nothing! I have everything to lose."

"How can you say that? After what—"

"It's gone! Dead! Years ago!" He motioned closer to her and pulled her by the arm. "You're obsessed! I'm warning you! Stay away from me. Stay away from Betty."

I reacted accordingly.

"You stay away from her!"

He pushed me away.

"What the— You. Who the hell are you? You have no idea what you're messing with. Get out of here!"

"Well, one thing I know. I do what I want when I want to and I'm not going nowhere."

"Wait. I recognize you. So," he smirked. "you want this bitch?"

He threw Beth to my feet.

"Take her! She's worthless."

Those words. Just like the ones written in Beth's threatening letters.

How much I hated that man!

I aimed to his face but he dodged my punch, hit me in the stomach and sent me rolling against a wall. I stood up hastily and ran towards him. We both crashed into Beth's desk, breaking everything in our way. He slightly pulled me away, trying to escape. I saw him exposed wide open in front of me, so I quickly took that chance.

That second time I didn't miss the target, I broke his nose point blank with my fist. I kept hitting him over and over in an uncontrolled frenzy. And I would lie if I say I didn't enjoy it, every punch sweeter than the next; his cry for help, music to my ears that did nothing else but fuel the fire inside of me, a burning hunger that craved madly for his blood.

By the time Security brought us apart I had him on the floor begging for me to stop.

It was then when I caught Beth's eyes and snapped out of my trance. My hands were tainted in red. I panicked.

"Beth!" I asked as if she had all the answers, as if she could explain what had just happened inside of me. "What have I done?"

"It's okay" I read from her lips while the officers dragged me out. "You're not a killer."

Her words calmed me down and, even though I was still lost amidst confusion, probably that's all I needed to hear.

I guess I wasn't surprised they sent me to the first floor's isolation room. What I wasn't really expecting was Betty Suarez.

Her features were dressed with worry when she entered the room and she was carrying some ice with her. She was dressed like she usually did and on her sleeve she had a 'Hello Kitty' silver brooch. The childish contrast of it with her facial expression would have been enough to make me smile in another circumstances but I was almost certain it was another memento from Jenny Vitelly. So it put me down, that and the big diamond on her finger.

As much as I liked seen her, her presence filled me with nothing but grief.

But she looked really sorry and she apologized to me because she couldn't find a way to help me this time.

"You're helping me enough just now" I answered as I let her put my severed hand into the ice bucket.

"Gio, oh, Gio. What did you do this time to make Matt hit you?"

Same old Betty, she always believed I was the one at fault.

"Well, you know me. Can't help myself, can I?" I said, automatically. "And neither can you, dating the nearest scumbag on the list."

She didn't even protest. She just stood there, silently massaging my hand. I was about to apologize when the door opened and Antonio entered the room. He looked a bit embarrassed to be interrupting. But I also knew he was relieved to let me go. He explained us that someone from the big bosses talked my way out claiming that it had been nothing but a misunderstanding.

"Overruling Matt? That can only be Daniel" Betty muttered. "But I thought he was out of town today."

I was pretty sure that Beth moved Heaven an Earth to track him down and convince him to speak on my behalf.

"I guess I'll return back to my office."

I stopped her.

"Betty, wait. We need your help. Antonio, could you give us a minute?"

He left us alone.

I told her that we needed someone with influence to find out who had fired the security officer.

"I don't think this is a good idea. This is going too far, Gio. Look at you now. One of us is going to get seriously hurt."

"If you really want to get to the bottom of it you must help us in all you can. I know you can do it. You're Betty, come on. You can get everything you want" I said sincerely "when you're willing to take it."

I looked into her brown eyes and she looked into mine. I could swear she was slowly leaning closer to me when the door opened and, once again, the moment was lost.

—0—

Betty had a few friends in the Human Resources Department she'd met long ago and she convinced one of them to meet us at the archive room. So she helped me slither through the office carefull that people didn't notice my presence. I was also glad that the news of my little encounter with Matt didn't put a price on my head.

"Beth are you sure you're feeling okay?" I asked when I finally met her. I was glad she decided to join us too. At least I could keep an eye on her.

Beth ignored my concerns and walked away from me towards a corner of the room. After a while she picked a picture from one of the piles of documents "Who's that woman? She looks awfully familiar."

Somehow I found that face familiar too.

"I've never seen her before. I don't think she's worked at Mode."

"You're right, Betty" said the archivist picking the picture. "Those are candidate files. We just keep their CVs for future reference."

She took the files from Beth's hand and locked it in the corresponding section.

"Please don't touch anything. I could get fired for this."

After several more minutes of browsing through papers we could barely find that Timothy Jackson was the last person hired for the position but he only stayed for less than three days in the job.

"How about the one before him?" I asked. "When did you say he was fired?"

"Let me see... M. E. Torres. Want me to check him up for you?" She opened another file but I was already fearing what she was about to say. "He's the one they've been trying to replace, model employee, being with us for more than three years. He got fired just twenty days ago for no apparent reason."

Twenty days ago! That couldn't be just a coincidence.

"Can I see the picture?" I requested.

"Sure, here's the file: Manuel Eduardo Torres."

My heart stopped for a second when I finally recognized the face. My old friend from Queens: Manolo Torres.

"Did you know him?" Beth came to my side.

"Who's him?" Betty asked and saw me browsing through the file. "What does he relate with this whole case? Let me see."

"Shush!" I commanded her while I took the file back and read the section of his responsibilities. "I need concentration."

"No, you shush" she said and hit my arm, teasingly, but I ignored her. I read the file while Beth and Betty both peeked over my shoulders, one at each side. "It says here he was also responsible for the maintenance of the elevators?"

Beth and I looked at each other.

"Who fired him?" she asked eagerly, feeling my excitement. We were finally on a lead.

"This is weird. It seems we didn't follow regular procedure. The order to terminate the contract came from above without further explanation. Just an email. Here it is." She handled us a printed copy. "The email was sent by Daniel Meade".

There was no mistake about it. Manolo Torres had been the one in charge with the surveillance cameras and the elevator ten days before the murder happened, right before his own suicide.

And he had a connection with Daniel Meade.

_To be continued_


	15. Chapter 14

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter XIV—

Monday finally came. It was time to visit my elusive friend.

"What are you doing here, Gio? I told you I could handle him by myself" a very upset Betty complained as soon as I was she saw me. "How did you come inside, anyway? Matt sent your picture to all security entrances."

Beth already knew that. So we used one of the special cleared entrances from the garage basement that her cousin and aunt had for themselves.

"I told you she was going to start whining, like always."

My sensible Queens Girl was taken aback at Beth's comment. She instinctively leaned to my side, looking for some sort protection and asked "is she coming with us?"

"Well, 'she' is very busy today" Beth said with her peculiar glacial voice and picked up the phone. "Should I call Mrs. Meade for you?"

"No. It's better if she isn't here" I said and knocked on Daniel's door.

It didn't feel comfortable doing what we were doing, meddling into my friend's personal affairs but we needed to find the core of this situation, for everyone's sake.

It was natural for Betty, though. She'd been involved with the Meade family for more than four years. She was almost part of the family.

I never thought I would befriend a guy like Daniel Meade, the youngest of the Meade brothers. I always found him a bit too careless and needy for a man, and he used to exhaust Betty when she worked as his assistant. But his vulnerability was mostly the result of a broken home. I grew to appreciate him when he showed me he could be a great father, husband and friend. It was a shame he never had decent company to keep him on the right track. He must be thankful that he had friends like Betty and me.

We had a brief conversation catching up with our lives since the last time we hanged out together. He spoke with short sentences and seemed bothered by my presence. He had seen Betty come after me, so he was probably pretty much aware this wasn't a social call.

"Okay, now this is the part where you both tell me the reason you're here today."

I placed the copy of the email sent to Human Resources in front of him, on top of the desk he was sitting.

"What does this mean?"

"Why you wanted to get rid of him, Daniel?" I asked back.

"What are you talking about? I didn't fire this guy. I don't even know who he is."

"For many years he was the one in charge of the maintenance of the lifts, specially the one that Mrs. Hartley personally used, the one that almost crashes and sends us to hell."

"Is this some sort of a sick joke?" he said looking at Betty and me alternatively. "I have no time for games. Is this because of that day I fired you, Gio? You're still holding a grudge about that?"

"Come on Daniel!" said Betty. "This is your email! You sent it."

But Daniel Meade insisted that he didn't have any idea who could have wrote that or why. If anything, he suspected someone could have sent it from his computer station.

"But that's very unlikely. Nobody knows my password" he said and raised his blue eyes towards Betty, "only you".

"You never changed the password after I left?" she said, scolding him.

"No, and I never gave it to anyone else."

"How about your new assistant?" Betty said looking through the glass divide in the direction of her old desk. As if on cue, Beth looked up to us and frowned. "Beth surely knows it."

"Never gave it to her" He scratched his head. "I've told you I never could find an assistant that I feel confident or trusting enough. Never like you, Betty."

Betty blushed and then paused for a moment to think.

"God! You don't think it was me!" she looked at Daniel and me in turns. "Because, I didn't. I didn't!"

"Of course I know it wasn't you" he said with a smile, "your upper lip shakes when you're not being honest."

Daniel was right. Betty could never tell a good lie.

"You must have given the password to somebody, Daniel. Try to remember."

"I really can't. Sorry, I can't help. This could have been a mistake. I don't know. I have so many things to worry about."

He stood up and went to the nearest window. My friend was visibly disturbed.

"Daniel, what's going on with you?"

"I've been having a lot in my mind, problems of my own, Betty. You wouldn't have a clue, would you? Because you're up there with your new life and all; and I'm here, alone."

If Daniel was trying to arouse pity from her, he didn't got any.

Instead, Betty frowned and confronted him.

"You're never here, Daniel! Who takes care of MODE? Leaving everything to Wilhelmina, Matt and the Hartleys" Betty raised her arms to the skies. "The magazine should have been your biggest worry!"

"You have no idea Betty no idea. You wouldn't understand."

"Try me" she said and sat on a chair.

"Women, money, the usual. You know that since Molly died it's been terrible to live day by day, looking for entertainment" he smiled sadly "getting into troubles sometimes, nothing serious—"

"What kind of troubles?"

"Um… a few bets here and there—"

"Gambling?! Daniel!" Betty yelled disappointed.

Now I understood Beth when she said he was a mess.

"I said nothing serious, really. Well, maybe a little bit. But I've been sorting it out."

"Sure you did, man" I said shaking my head, "taking money from Calvin Hartley."

Daniel looked seriously confused and offended.

"No! No, of course not. My mother! My mother has been funding me."

Betty stood up and went to his side. He really was a clueless man.

"Daniel. The money came from Mr. Hartley's account. He was the one giving you money, Daniel. Not Claire."

"Why would he do that? That's impossible. I would never ask for a favor like that. Knowing he wanted to take over MODE."

Someone coughed and it was Beth at the door.

"I couldn't stop her" she said, let Mrs. Meade in and returned back to her desk.

"Mother, what is the meaning of this?" Daniel said. "Betty insists you have been transferring me money from Mr. Hartley. Is that true?"

Claire had no chance to answer her son. The door opened again, interrupting her.

"A family meeting" Wilhelmina came in "and I wasn't invited?"

Across the room, at the door, Marc, Amanda and Beth stood side by side. I frowned at Marc but he just raised his shoulders and made a face.

Stupid Marc.

"I've been having such a morning trying to deal with the news and media. All this mayhem has turned all the attention to MODE and not in a good way. Meanwhile you're all here having a picnic. Oh, wait, unless, Claire" and then I heard that tone of voice that made me shiver down my spine. "were you going to tell everything to your son? Okay, go on. I'm not missing this for the world."

"Wilhelmina. Don't you dare!" Claire stood like a feline.

"Claire, Claire, what do you think of me? That I'm heartless enough to say in front of all this 'people' that Daniel was never Bradford's kid but the product of your secret affair with his best friend, Calvin Hartley? Oh, wait. I just did" she bit one of her fingers playfully, "and so does every newspaper in Manhattan."

She threw some copies to her lap. It was all over the news.

So that was the special task that Averaimo and Pietro have been secretly working for Wilhelmina Slater.

I couldn't describe the look on Mrs. Meade's face when she managed to read the headlines. Betty hurried to her side and touched her shoulders. It was probably all the strength she needed. To our amazement, she jumped out of her seat and ran towards Wilhelmina with her arm raised, ready to hit her square on the face, but Miss Slater caught her hand midair.

"You're getting rusty from your jail days." Wilhelmina said. "Is this the way you thank me, Claire, after all I've done to save this magazine? Who do you think had been working with Calvin to prevent this place from falling apart?"

"Oh, Wilhelmina," said Mrs. Meade, "we know pretty damn well how you 'work with men'."

"Come on, now, don't be jealous, Claire. I never intended to steal all the men in your life. They just prefer quality over— well, you." She released her. Mrs. Meade had to find balance in the nearest seat. "Now, rest your old bones and leave everything to me. I'll bring MODE back how it was before and, for free, I'll even speak a word or two on your behalf with the young Hartley. To see how glad he takes the news about your happy dealings with his father. He might be quite thrilled to know he now has a big brother to play with."

"You won't get away with this!"

"I'll take care of MODE; you, take care of your own mess, Claire."

She threw a meaningful glance to where Daniel was standing with his face disfigured by the shock, still and silent, he appeared to be lost in his own thoughts.

"Marc!" she called and left, followed closely by her faithful assistant.

Claire threw herself towards her son.

"We didn't want you to find out this way. I didn't—"

Daniel said nothing, turned his back at her and started walking away from his office.

"Where are you going? You—you're still my son. I'm your mother."

He stopped for an instant and said.

"I don't know who you are anymore."

With that said, he opened the door and found Beth and Amanda standing like guardians, obviously engaged in shameful eavesdropping practices. He partially covered his face with his hand and walked through them.

"Elizabeth, arrange a press conference in an hour. We have work to do before this news causes any more damage to the magazine."

"Yes, Daniel" she answered and I saw her look at him with empathy for the first time since I've met her.

I released the air from my lungs in relief, like a heavy weight finally falling from my shoulders.

We saw Claire cry alone inside Daniel's office while we joined the rest of the Detective Squad at Beth's desk.

"What's going to happen now?" I asked Betty.

"I don't know. Wilhelmina got what she wanted. Probably Daniel is going to step down and let the business run by Wilhelmina until they control the scandal."

"Do you think Claire would have killed Mr. Hartley to prevent him from telling Daniel he was his father?" asked Amanda.

"I don't know" Beth said looking at her through the transparent wall. "My uncle always spoke of her dearly. I choose to believe they were really fond of each other."

—0—

I turned off the radio as I approached my old neighborhood in Queens. I knew it wasn't proper to arrive with loud music at her home, given the circumstances. After many days trying to fit in her busy work agenda, I had finally arranged to meet with Zoraida Torres that night.

Beth agreed to stay home. This was something I wanted to do on my own, to find out how to fit the Manolo piece in the whole crazy puzzle.

Zoraida herself opened the door of the little home for me. The same place I remembered as kids, her mother's house. She kissed me on the cheek and invited me in. She still had that beauty that made her so popular with the boys back at school, but her face was visibly worn out with grief and her eyes were filled with sadness.

She showed me an old picture from his school days. I recognized myself in it, fourteen years ago, covered with dirt, my eyes shining with youth. Pietro was there, too. We were all smiling at the camera, completely unaware of what the future had in store for us.

She placed the picture back to where it belonged and invited me to sit for coffee.

Zoraida said that Manolo had been acting strange the few weeks before his death. She believed he was dating someone but she couldn't be sure of it.

"I used to think she was an old crush from school. But I was probably wrong. He never really talked to me about her. I never knew her. But I wasn't an idiot: he talked long hours by the phone, went out and came late some nights. He wasn't the party boy, you know. And I was happy for him. I thought he was happy too. I guess he was for a while. But then he changed, started acting weird. Sleeping late at night, working something in his room. Something was on his mind" she said. "Sometimes he said he was doing things he didn't want to do. I asked him to talk to me it but he never did."

She lit a small cigarette and let out a puff of smoke.

"Then, that night he said he was going out for a while. He was all well dressed, like going on a date. He said he wasn't going to come for dinner. That was all. How silly…. I wish—I didn't know that was the last time I was going to see him."

She started sobbing.

"My baby brother, my Manny."

I held her hand and let her cry for a while longer.

It was already dark by the time I left her house. I didn't have it in me to refuse her offer to dine with her family. I owed it to Manolo.

I gave a quick glance to the notebooks I had on the passenger seat. I had asked Manolo's family for permission to check his room. They were kind enough to let me in without asking too many questions. The room had been left intact and I gave a quick look at the notebooks and paper he had right on top of his study desk. The drawing of one of the devices he was working was exactly the same as the one used in the elevator.

"Manolo, Manolo, what were you up to?" I wondered while I drove back home.

It must have tormented him greatly, enough to make him jump that bridge.

Unless… someone had pushed him.

I shook my head and focused on the road. I've been too involved with this crazy detective game. And we were hitting nothing but walls and driving madly straight into dead ends. It was affecting me greatly, emotionally and financially. There were no more murders. Everyone was safe. I thought about quitting the whole thing.

I thought I should be worrying about myself and my life, of how much I've been neglecting my own business.

Oh, Crap! I cursed and dialed Maurizo's number.

"Hello? Hey, did you close the shop?"

"Hi, Joe" was the answer I got through the line. There was a lively noise in the background.

"Amanda, could you put my cousin, please?"

She did as I told her.

"_Guarda __che ha deciso di farsi vedere!" _

"Yeah, yea, I've been busy too. Anything important today?"

"Oh, well… We'll need to get some supplies for the evening deliveries, so try not to monopolize the van tomorrow morning, okay? Oh! And the insurance company guy came this evening. You weren't there so he left his number."

I was still dealing with the van repair and the Deli window restoration.

The traffic light turned red.

"Give me the guy's number. I'll call him to arrange a meeting tomorrow. Did you really lock the business, carefully?"

"_Ma Certo, cugi._ Come on! I'm the one who've been telling you to stop sleeping like a homeless. I won't forgive you if you're not going to come tomorrow morning… I'm at a party tonight and I can already predict I'm going to wake up with a heavy hangover."

"Enough with the complaints, _basta_! Just give me the stupid number, okay?"

I opened the glove compartment, looking for something to write with. Among the bills, menus, and Kleenex boxes, I finally fished a ball pen but it slipped through my fingers.

I seriously considered giving an interior cleaning to the van. It was a total mess.

"Give me a second, wait" I said, all bothered, trying to slip my hands under the passenger seat. "The stupid pen fell down—"

I stopped talking. I think I heard Maurizo's voice through the line, calling my name.

"Gio! Gio! Are you still there?"

I wasn't listening to him or the honk of the cars standing in line behind me.

In my right hand I held a little pistol.

The design of the handle looked frightening familiar: silver-plated and carefully polished, it had a complex monogram that beautifully formed the letters M. H.

_Will be continued very soon_

Notes: 

"_Guarda __che ha deciso di farsi vedere!" = _Look who has decided to show up!

_Ma Certo, cugi. = _But of course, cousin

_Basta!_ = enough!


	16. Chapter 15

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter XV—

_For the Getty Rottweiler_

I didn't want to speak to Beth that night. I switched off my phone and spent the night at my Mother's. For the first time since the threatening notes, I left her all alone in my own apartment; I didn't bring her to work; I didn't watch over her. I spent the day driving the van while a very upset and heavily hungover Maurizo took care of the Deli business.

The day passed swiftly, trying to find answers to the mountains of questions that spun endlessly inside my mind.

What the hell was doing Matt Hartley's pistol in my van? I remembered how I had the impression that the mysterious briefcase Beth carried the night of the murder had suffered a weight loss during our trip to her home. I'd been carrying that weapon with me the whole time.

Had she been using me? Was she trying to blame me all this time?

I opened the glove compartment again, for the tenth time, as if by wishing the weapon could vanish forever.

The weapon had a similar design of the silver knife Beth always carried with her. It fit the same description Pietro had given us of Mr. Hartley's murderous weapon.

I closed the compartment.

It couldn't be her. It shouldn't be her. I tried to reject the proof lying in front of me. I didn't want to believe in it, I wanted to believe in her.

I checked my mobile phone.

Tons of missed calls and the same voicemail left to me early this morning.

"I just talked to Maurizo and I'm afraid I know what you found. Please, don't go to the police. Whatever you might think of me, I didn't do it. You must believe me. I promise I'll explain everything tonight. I need you to trust me."

I'd heard that message a dozen times that day.

The night arrived quickly than expected. I dismissed Maurizo and closed the Deli. I placed the gun in the drawer of the desk of my modest office. I didn't want to carry it around.

I parked the van in front of Meade Publications and dialed her phone number. It transferred me directly to the voicemail.

The Meade lobby entrance was deserted. Most employees had already gone home that Tuesday night.

"I'm sorry Gio, you know you can't go upstairs" Antonio warned me.

I asked my friend if Elizabeth Hartley had already left but he answered that he hadn't seen her leave the building. I used the phone and called her desk. Nobody answered.

"Are you sure she's still in here?" I asked, hanging the receiver after another failed attempt to reach her.

"I don't know, Gio. Just sit and wait if you want. As long as you know you can't go inside."

"Let him in. I'll be responsible for him" said a familiar voice.

Betty Suarez came towards us.

"I don't think I can do that, miss. I have this order."

"And I have this one" she said looking for a paper copy in her designer purse, "emailed by Daniel Meade. You can check the system if you like."

"How did you—?" I asked her while Antonio verified the order and gave me a visitor pass.

"I wanted to tell you this morning but I couldn't reach you."

She was right. I didn't want to speak with anyone from the Detective Squad until I talked to Beth first.

"How is Daniel dealing with everything?" I asked and we walked to the waiting area.

"Not too well. But he's stronger than he'd ever been. He'll be fine."

We stood there without having anything to say. She spoke first, with a timid voice.

"Gio, I wonder if you'd like to go out sometime."

"What? You mean like… like with you and Matt?" I said raising both my eyebrows, "after what I did to his face?"

I stopped for a second. She was blushing.

"Oh, wait" I snapped, "You're not talking about having dinner with your fiancé…"

She shook her head and said.

"Like the old times: just you and me, like you said."

I just couldn't believe what I was hearing and kept staring at her. Betty Suarez was a mystery. There she was sending me mixed signals again. I never understood her. I never could. She really was something.

"Not tonight" I said.

Her face saddened. And we remained in silence for few minutes until she spoke again.

"Is it true that poor Jenny had to quit? I never got chance to see her off" she said. "I really liked her, you know? Do you know if we could visit her sometime?"

"Sure" I said. "She's staying in Brooklyn."

"I thought she lived in Queens."

"She moved, probably living at her aunt's house. We could ask Pietro."

"I'll make sure to pay her a visit" she pondered. "Poor girl."

"Yeah" I said and couldn't find anything else to say.

"Are you going home?" she asked. "I'm on my way to Queens. Maybe you could give me a ride?"

"I'm really sorry" I said as gently as I could. "I'm waiting for someone."

"I see." She said. "I guess I should leave then."

Betty took two steps forward and lost balance, falling at my feet. I laughed, breaking the awkward moment between us. She helped herself up while I picked her scattered belongings from the floor.

"Isn't this a little bit too big for you, Betty? No wonder you're tripping all over" I said trying to make a joke while I took her little feet in my hands and helped her put on the pretty shoe. It was an expensive designer's shoe. So fancy that I would never imagine a girl like Betty wearing one. "Becoming a slave to fashion, little Mode Girl?"

"Are you going to pass your judgment on me now?" she said, shyly trying to hide her feet from my view.

"That's our thing, isn't it? You criticize me, I criticize you and we live happily ever after," I said "or maybe not."

She drew a deep breath.

"Happily ever after…" she spoke in a low voice. "Can we ever find true happiness, to be fully satisfied? To get what we truly want, what we deserve? Do we even know what we really want?"

I sat by her side. "How could I know?"

"You always bragged about how knew all the answers" she said, mockingly.

I smiled.

"Why can't we go back to what we were before?" she said.

"It's complicated." I answered.

"Complicated…"

"You confuse me" I said. "Sometimes I don't understand this 'new you': the air around you, the clothes, the attitude. Sometimes you're the one I used to… Betty, you used to tell me everything."

"I'm sorry" she said. "Gio, I've changed. But what can I do? Life made me what I am now. But it's all so tiring. No matter how hard I work, how much I sacrifice myself, how much I change… I end up swimming in lies" she said, looking at her hands. "People are mean in this world. Very mean. It's horrible."

"Betty, you need to be stronger. Life isn't fair."

There I was, trying to lecture her again.

She looked at me with her brown eyes as if deciding on what she was going to tell me next.

"Matt cheated on me while we were on the Y.E.T.I Program with that woman, the woman Marc recognized on the press."

I was numbed for a second but I wasn't really surprised. I couldn't expect less from that pathetic excuse of a man.

"I can't believe I'm still with him after all" She wiped a tear. "I know I'm being stupid."

I frowned. She was being stupid. Again.

It wasn't the first time it'd happened to her.

"You know, Gio? The only man in my life who never lied to me was you. I can't believe I never realized it. I sometimes wonder…" her face turned carmine, she played with her fingers. "Will you ever forgive me? For all that happened between us?"

I wanted to say I would. But it had been just such a long time. It was too late, too complicated.

I broke the eye contact and stood up.

"Good night, Betty. Have a safe trip home."

She left without saying another word.

—0—

My boots resounded like an echo through the corridors of MODE. Most of the lights were off and very few people were around.

I stopped in front of Matt's office. The lights were on. Someone was inside. The see-through wall revealed that someone was inside, sitting in the desk.

There he was: Matt Hartley, his nose still severed and cover with bandages.

He raised his head, aware of my presence and tried to figure out who I was.

We locked eye to eye and I knew he'd finally recognized me.

My lips formed a line and the blood started rushing to my head, boiling inside my veins.

Matt made a sudden movement as if going to stand up and come to me. I clenched my fists, ready to clash against him. But then, he stopped, sat back on his chair and turned his back at me.

"Wise move, jackass", I thought. "There's nobody here to protect you this time".

You're not a killer. Beth's voice was ringing in my head.

I spat on the floor and walked away.

Beth's desk was empty. And there didn't seem to be anyone else around. Daniel, Wilhelmina and Marc have all left.

The melody of my cellphone rang in my pocket and I picked it.

"Beth, where the hell are you?"

"At MODE" she said in a whisper. I could barely hear her voice through the line.

"No, I am at MODE! At your desk. You're not even here. Everything is turned off. Where are you really?"

Beth voice was extremely nervous and upset.

"Human Resources floor. The archive room. If you're here. Please come. You must. This is too much."

She closed the line.

I ran through the corridors guided solely by my memory. Everything was dark and there wasn't a single soul in the whole floor. The road was long and tedious. Passing through dozens of empty cubicles and small corridors, I wondered why would she pick such a shady place to meet me, what was she doing there all by herself.

I finally found the little white door at the back.

The door was curiously open and a little ray of artificial light peeked through, forming a straight line that cut the darkness in two.

I advanced cautiously and couldn't stop feeling like a clueless prey playing on a snake's nest.

I opened the door.

She jumped and faced me. Her eyes were bloodshot red. They were trembling in excitement, staring intently into mine. Her reddish hair was tied in a bun held by a large golden pin with little Japanese motifs. Her face was pale and worn.

She was holding something in her hands, her sharp knife pointing menacing at my direction.

"Woah!" I raised both my hands "It's me!"

She walked towards me, visibly troubled, on the verge of breakdown, still holding the weapon in her hands.

I took a step back.

"Beth, what are you doing?"

Her beautiful ivory hands were shaking.

"It's in here. It's all in here!" she said showing me some documents she was holding on her other hand.

As I looked beyond her shoulders, I noticed the filing cabinet was opened wide; the metal lock of the top, severely damaged with heavy scratches around the edges, caused, probably, by her knife. I threw a quick glance to the piles of files opened everywhere. The whole room was a horrible mess.

"Beth, what did you do?"

"I had to" she said. "I needed to know."

I moved quickly, snatched the knife away from her.

"I found them. I knew I'd seen that face before" She kept standing in front of me, shaking uncontrollably, staring at me with those grey eyes. "Oh Gio! This is awful. All the murdered women… they're all connected."

"Beth, calm down. I don't know what you're talking about." Her cool was breaking down in front of me and I didn't know what to do.

She just kept repeating:

"They are all connected, all connected" she shoved me the papers, urging me to read them "I found them. I knew I've recognized them. They're all here. They worked in publishing houses."

"Beth, stop. You're not making sense." I shook my head. "You still have one thing to explain to me—"

She wasn't listening.

"All connected. Oh my god! I can't believe it. It's him… Look! look!"

She kept pointing at some papers. I saw the pictures of young women. I recognized some of their faces. They used to come to the deli. They were pretty, they were smiling, they looked so alive. These pictures didn't resemble of those disfigured cadavers from the journals, but they were them. They were the victims of the recent murders.

"All applied work for MODE… all interviewed personally… every one of them… all for assistant to Creative Director."

I quickly grabbed the papers from her and confirmed it with my own eyes. It all made sense to me know. I stood up and turned to face Beth. She had become death pale. She started shaking again.

"He lied to me. He used me. He—he slept with all of them. He killed all those women, my uncle… even his own—" she chocked her mouth was opened but no words came through.

"Beth. Look at me" I grabbed both her arms, trying to control her frenzy and pushed her against a wall. Her golden pin fell from her hair and hit the floor, making a peculiar sound that vibrated between us for a second. Her untied hair cascaded like a curtain between us. "You still need to tell me… explain to me why you had that gun with you."

"All candidates for the same position I rejected three months ago… Jenny, those women, all interviewed to work as Matt's assistant. Every one of them. Different dates. Same job."

"Beth! Answer me! Why you were hiding that gun? Why?"

"Matt's assistants! All were going to work for Matt. Jenny. He— He—"

"Beth, why are you helping him? Why are you sacrificing everything for him?" I was slowly losing it myself too. I had her pinned her against the wall. Her face was just inches away from mine. "Why are you protecting that asshole? Why were you helping that murderer?"

"Because—" Her eyes opened wide and caught mine. Her voice overpowered mine and her dry confession resounded against the walls of our small confinement. "Because I loved him."

_To be continued_


	17. Chapter 16

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter XVI—

_For Maria_

_Melodramatic chapters are our thing_

My heart stopped. My fingers loosened their grip and she felt down to the floor. I followed and knelt beside her.

"I loved him" she said once more, her face ashamed of her confession.

The door closed with a loud slam.

I bolted towards it and struggled with the knob for a little while. It looked that the door locked automatically and couldn't be opened from the inside. I gave up.

"It's dead shut. We're locked inside."

I checked my cell phone and it had no signal. I tried yelling through the door but nobody seemed to be on the other side. I surveyed the little room and found no windows or any escape through the ceiling. The extractor fan hole was too small for us to use.

Damn it! It only happened in movies.

It seemed like we had no choice but to spend the night in that tiny room. So I gathered a few piles of documents and books and placed them on the floor. I sat on top of them and rested against the wall right opposite to the door. Beth joined me.

"I promised to tell you everything." she started. "I've been hiding this inside me for too long. I guess need to let it out."

She spoke quietly.

"It was several years ago. I was so young, so innocent; he was my only cousin. Everyone adored him."

I clenched my teeth in anger. I feared what was coming. I could almost believe my head was about to snap.

"He did... he… took advantage of you, didn't he?"

"No… no…" she touched my hardened biceps with her fingers. She must have felt how tense my body was. "No. I wanted to. I've had a crush with him for so long. I thought it was love. He always knew I loved him. So it was bound to happen eventually. I've always been too headstrong for my years and I always knew what I wanted."

She smiled sadly.

"Sixteen is always an excuse for one of Hartley's ostentatious parties, even if it's just a bastard daughter. Everyone was invited. But Matt and I didn't attend. He wanted to make it my special night. I was such a fool but I thought myself so happy. He told me so many promises I didn't care how enraged my mother and uncle were that evening and the evenings beyond that point. We saw each other all summer until…"

She stood silent as if wondering if she should continue or not. She finally gave in.

"Aunt Victoria sent him to study languages abroad, to Paris, far away. I was forced against my will to disappear to Seattle and away from New York society to terminate" she couldn't even dare look at me "the life I had in me."

My pupils dilated as I saw two tears running carelessly through her freckled face.

"I felt so dirty, so broken. I was only sixteen" I could almost feel her ache in her voice.

Her face was fully covered in tears, now. I hugged her and let her drain her pain against my shoulders.

One sided love. I understood the feeling so well. I have been swimming in those seas for several years myself. But I could never compare my sorrows to hers. She had lost something more precious than just a crush from teenage years. Elizabeth Hartley died with that baby.

I let her shake and break and melt inside my arms. She bit my shoulders while tears ran in desperation. It was enough of her to act as if nothing was wrong, to be stronger than her years trying to conceal all the pain that was consuming her. I just wanted her to release everything, at least once in her life.

After several minutes in my arms she finally calmed down.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened to me just now."

"It's okay" I caressed her hair while her head rested peacefully in my shoulder. "You don't have to pretend to be fine with me."

"I was supposed to be over this. It was so long ago, I'm Beth Leigh now" she sighed, wiped her tears and finally dared face me, "I've changed."

"But you couldn't stop feeling for him."

She didn't nod but her eyes provided the answer.

"We rarely saw each other except in some few social events, at my mother's funeral. But ever since, I saw Victoria Hartley's eyes in his, looking at me like trash, treating me with scorn. It really was a surprise when Uncle contacted me and offered me a job here in New York, at the same company Matt was working. It was a big mistake to come here."

I guess an average person wouldn't believe that she had spent years shutting herself out because to her past, clinging into the shadows and memories of a forbidden love and a bitter pain. But not to me, I understood her well.

"You should tell the truth to the police."

She avoided my stare and stood silent, resting her head against my shoulders once again.

"You must" I repeated "testify against him."

Fucking Matt! I hated him with all my soul. He always managed to ruin everything and everyone still cared for him.

After a moment I dare speak again.

"Is it worth it?" I whispered. The words stinging as I spoke them, my lips so close to her ear I could almost touch her, "to sacrifice that much for him? Is it really worth it?"

She shook her head and let go of our embrace.

"I didn't know he had done any of this. Maybe I just didn't want to believe in it. I refused the facts. I thought it was all a misunderstanding. I don't know, someone trying to frame him. He—he came to me that morning, acting so innocent, so worried."

Beth told me that he always kept the pistol in his safe box but that once he knew about his father's tragedy he ran to take it out and he noticed a few bullets were used. He panicked. He didn't know what to do because he was certain the police was going to point at him. Very few people knew the combination of that box. He didn't know what to do.

"He begged me for help. He wanted me to help him and I couldn't help myself. He used me… again."

She replied nodding slowly, like a little child.

"I know that if I go to the police, I'm going down for helping him but he mustn't get away with the murder of my uncle."

She shook her head.

"Gio," she said and her gaze was deep and sincere, almost like an apology "I don't love him anymore."

I caressed her hair. The red strands gliding smoothly in between my fingers spoke of danger. I didn't care. I didn't trust redheads but I believed in her.

"I'm so sorry" she said softly.

"Sorry for what?" I asked her.

Her eyes fixed intently in mine for the longest moment.

"I wish I'd met you in other circumstances."

Her clear gray crystals were shaking with emotion.

My sight drifted from her eyes to her lips and lingered there while I realized right at that moment —I had fallen in love with her.

"Please," she begged me, her voice cracked like glass, "kiss me."

And so I did. Her lips opened up to mine in a soft moan.

But I didn't stop there. Her mouth was just the prelude. My lips longed for her since that day I saw her cry for love in the solitude of that corridor at MODE.

I kissed that place under her earlobe, that heart shaped tattoo that marked her since the day she was born —I need you.

My tongue tasted her skin and I whispered words against it, words of passion and reassurance. I took her in my arms and lay her down on the floor. My hands sailed freely across her stunning legs. I felt her shiver at my contact and I wondered how long since she'd felt the touch of a man, if she'd ever been touched by a real man; not a scumbag, like Matt.

I don't know if it was her need to feel loved after all the pain of these many years or maybe my longing desire for someone who finally welcomed my affections; all I know, we kissed and made love right there, with no shame, inside those four walls.

Desperately. Hungrily. Silently.

I woke up feeling alive and checked my watch. It was pass midnight. I recollected myself. Beth was sleeping by my side, resting in my arm.

I got up and wondered if I could open the door just like Beth did with Wilhelmina's locked office. I grabbed the knife and the moment my hand touched the knob, the door opened before me effortlessly.

Could Beth have opened it?

I looked back but she was still resting asleep in the floor. I was so tired I didn't want to think too much. I was glad we were free from our imprisonment and that she was safe with me.

I kissed her forehead and woke her up. We tried to fix the archive room as much as we could and went back to my place.

We made love again in my bed, our bed, and I slept like I haven't done in years.

The morning came and found my little Hartley princess making breakfast in the kitchen. I tiptoed towards her and embraced her skinny waist with my strong arms.

"Ah!" she startled, "you scared me."

I liked to see her react like that. She was usually cold and distant with the rest of the world but she was so different when she was with me. I guessed I made her feel alive.

"Wait, wait. What is this?" I pinched her stomach with my fingers. "Ah… look at that. You're gaining some weight, finally. I told you would."

"How can that be possible? I've known you just for a few weeks."

"Deli food is magic and I'm your miracle man. You just wait because I have a plan."

I kissed her back, her shoulders, her neck, her seductive spot in her cheek —I want you.

"Giovanni… a plan… for us?" she said in a soft voice that turned into a whisper that unveiled the emotions I was arousing with my kisses. "Do we even… have a future?"

"Of course we do" I said, very seriously. I grabbed her face with both my hands and made her look at me. I tried to convey in my eyes everything I was feeling inside me "we do."

"Yesterday… all I said… the weapon…" she stepped away from me, exploding the bubble of fantasy we created around ourselves since the moment we kissed for the first time last night.

"Not yet, Beth" said. I didn't want to wake up to reality, to the murder cases, to her pain. "Not yet. Could we just…"

I tried to kiss her rosy lips again.

"We will have to talk about it, eventually" she said, twirling a strand of hair in anxiety. "I'll definitely go to the police and tell everything. I guess I'll have to face the consequence of my actions. You're right. I can't think of any other choice."

"Listen, Beth," I took the strand of red hair between my fingers and put it back into place behind her earlobe. Then, I held her hands, her delicate beautiful hands "I'll be by your side. No matter what happens. We can survive this together. You're not alone."

She'd been searching for Matt; I'd been searching for Betty and we ended up finding each other. To hell my five year plan! I already could picture the foundation of my future: a new life with her.

"Matt can't hurt you anymore. I'm with you."

"You don't have to do this" she hesitated for a second then said, "I'm not Betty."

Her self-esteem had been shattered years ago, she had built herself an artificial one made of ice and scorn but inside she was nothing but a frightened girl that nobody ever cared for, that nobody ever loved.

"I know that" I held her tight. She was so fragile inside my arms, too skinny, too many freckles, too much red in her hair, too many lies, but still… "You're Elizabeth Leigh and I'm in love with you."

She kissed me back and merged with me in a passionate hug, in silence, only the faint noise of the morning news on the TV.

Then, suddenly, Beth flinched in a spasm of surprise and moved away from me, her hands clenched to my arms, her face lost all her usual colors and disfigured like a horror mask.

I heard a familiar name and made a quick turn just in time to hear the correspondent on the TV tell the latest breaking news: like his father, exactly two weeks ago, Mathew Hartley was just found dead in his office.

_To be continued_


	18. Chapter 17

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter XVII—

I commanded Beth to stay home and to lock the door while I drove my way to Manhattan. The Meade Publications building was submerged in chaos that Wednesday morning: news people, reporters and all sorts of curious busybodies, gathering at the main entrance. I exercised my influence with Antonio so I could finally pass through without complications.

I stepped out the elevator. Someone collided with me and threw me aside without even stopping for an apology. A very serious Averaimo walked hastily by Wilhelmina's side and a group of police officers, heading to the conference room.

Two murders at the same office were a disaster for the struggling magazine but, with Matt and Daniel out of the picture, she found a way to turn the situation with the press to her advantage, reassuring everyone it was going to be fine. She knew how to perform majestically on such stage and swiftly rose as the new 'savior of MODE'. She really got what she wanted.

Someone pulled me back. I gave little resistance when he drove me into a corner, away from the crowd.

"You shouldn't be here" Pietro Vitelli spoke quietly to me. I could see how proud he looked in his tailor suit. "Even less after that stuff you told me this morning about finding the weapon. This is no good."

I'd asked him on my way there to which was the best way for Beth to declare her connection to Matt relating the murderous weapon, how we suspected he was the one doing the killings and the shock about the news of his demise. I pressed him about the case.

"He was caught off guard, still sitting in his own desk. He'd got several deep cuts in his chest. Not a pretty sigh. Obviously a butcher's knife, just like the ones you use at your place. Haven't found it yet. We do know the metal detectors were off this week for maintenance. Stupid people, thought everything was over" Pietro shook his head. "The first one got directly to his heart. That killed him. He was totally taken by surprise. The mortician's gonna have to do a hell of a good job to delete that terrifying expression of shock in his face."

"Spare me the details" I said. I hated the guy but I couldn't help feeling some pity for him. "Do you have any lead?"

"You know what this means, right? He was killed by someone he knew or had confidence enough to let him enter his office. By the way…" Pietro whispered to me. "Where is she? The Hartley chick."

"She's safe."

Pietro did a clacking sound with his tongue.

"Not for long. Boy! She's deep in this shit to her neck. She stayed here at unusual hours last night. I personally checked the records. And you were here too, Gio. Something you conveniently forgot to tell me this morning. I can't cover for you any longer. You'll both have to declare sooner rather than later."

"Is there any chance for her? To declare her dealing with Matt and get out clean?"

He didn't even try to sugar coat it.

"She's screwed, cousin. She's got the gun and she's declaring against a dead man. No matter what she does she's going to be locked in as our prime suspect. If Mrs Slater or anyone representing the Hartleys pushes for a quick wrap up of this case, Averaimo won't even investigate further. She'll be the only target."

"How long until you lot start opening the case file?"

"Wilhelmina Slater forced us to be on hold until she cools the press. But there's going to be calling for blood soon, pressure from the top for us to close this shit. So I don't know… forty-eight hours tops."

I nodded and was about to leave. Pietro put his hand on my shoulder.

"You can't leave the country" he said. "We'd find you."

"She's clean and I'm clean" I said. "I'm not worried about this misunderstanding."

"You should. I don't know why but this murderer has a particular interest in all the Hartleys and she's the last one standing."

—0—

I asked Maurizo to work the business again while I ran full-speed back home. He didn't take it happily. I had to endure his silly ramblings about scheduled deliveries, unsorted supply orders and something about missing cutting tools from the Deli. But I wasn't really listening. I just wanted to stay as close to Beth as possible, until we figured out the best way to take her to the police.

I got a call on my mobile phone. Of all the people I knew, I didn't expect to hear the voice of Hilda Suarez.

"Gio, it's Betty. She's not feeling well after… you know… what happened. She's mad! We called Dr. Squazzi. He says its nothing but she yells and screams and cries. Maybe you could come and see her?"

"Hilda I'm in the middle of something—"

"I know it's a big favor. But I'm asking you" Hilda begged, "She doesn't listen to any of us."

"Hilda, I—"

"She keeps calling for you, Gio"

I hit the steering wheel in frustration. Sometimes I hated to be myself. I made a quick u-turn and drove straight to the Suarez residence.

Hilda Suarez opened the door for me when I arrived almost an hour later.

"She's a bit better now. I begged her not to go to work today." She said and guided me to her room. "If there's anyone that always knew how to cheer her up it was you, Gio."

Hilda entered the room while I stood by the door. She was on her bed.

"Betty, dear, you've got visit."

"I don't want to see anyone" she mumbled.

"It's Gio."

At the mention of my name, Betty's swollen face crept out from between the covers. Hilda excused herself and left us alone.

I sat on corner of the bed and she came to sit beside me. I had no idea how to handle her with all my worries in my head but it felt right to at least be there by her side.

"I don't think I have the strength to go to the Hartley mansion. I… can't face going there" She sank in the pillows of her bed. "I don't ever want to go back there."

"You don't have to" I said.

"But I do. Daniel counts with me. So much work and this issue is almost due. My notebook is there and I—"

"God! Betty, can't you stop that?" I scolded at her gently while I held her hand. "Always thinking about others and your work… even now."

"I just can't let them down. Not now. I must be strong." She insisted. "But I can't face going there and getting my things. It's just too much for me."

"I'll pick it up for you" I offered.

"Thank you."

She squeezed my hand with affection.

"You've always been there for me, haven't you, Gio?" she said and her brown eyes showed a glimpse of light amidst all that sorrowful darkness. She leaned closer and her lips touched mine softly, like a whisper.

The Gio of old awake inside me and I was not myself when I kissed her back. Part of me longed for her and I shut my eyes and I held her tight, my heart hurting inside my chest, a knot forming in my throat.

She pulled away softly and there were tears in her pretty eyes.

"I'm too late."

"Betty—" I started softly.

"It's her" she said touching her wet lips "It's Beth."

I couldn't find words to say.

"She's the one behind all this. She's playing you. She's playing us all. She probably played Matt and killed him!"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Betty, you have no idea" I finally said "If she ever lied was to hide her true motive for joining us. She wanted to prove it wasn't him, to cover him up."

"Cover for…" she finally understood. "You mean, Matt? What are you talking about?"

"We found his weapon. It's the one used on Mr. Hartley."

"It can't be Matt" she looked at me in horror. "It can't be!"

"Must be him! Beth had been trying to protect him since the first day."

That angered her more.

"Protect?!" Betty yelled. "Matt is dead! Dead!"

We stood there in silence.

"Why you do you even care? Why are you protecting her? She'd taken everything from me. Everything I ever cared for."

Her inquisitive eyes pierced my soul. My heart skipped a beat. For a moment I had the illusion it wasn't Matt she was talking about.

"What you like of her? Don't you see how she treats me, Gio? She thinks she's above me because I'm not rich or fancy like her. She doesn't think I'm enough to belong to her family. Don't you care for me anymore?" she asked.

I didn't respond.

"Are you with her? Are you sleeping with her?!" Betty asked me, her voice cracked as the words came out.

I stepped forward and hugged her. She was burning in fever. I didn't want to hurt her. It was never my intention.

"No" escaped from my lips and that was all I said.

I felt Betty's heart beat against mine, and memories came to me of the love I once had for her.

I could barely believe it was happening to us again: the wrong timing, after all that time, after all my efforts…

I closed my eyes and let the moment exist and take its place in my memories.

—0—

It was a real pain to go to the Hartleys. I spent more than two hours trying to get inside. They had the nastiest security system access into the house. I had to go through three different checkpoints and they stripped me away from most my possessions: my phone, my ring my bracelet, even my belt. It was all so stupid. Not even that could prevent the tragedy falling over their family.

I finally got some of Betty's stuff with me and brought it back to Queens. Hilda told me Betty was in her room, finally getting some sleep. So I thought it was better if we left her alone for a while.

"Promise me you'll return back" Hilda clang to my arm, probably looking for strength.

I knew what she meant. Just like when Betty had to face the loss of her first love, all the despair throughout the recent years, I'd always been the rebound, the shoulder to cry on… I'd been her savior.

Hilda knew it well.

"Betty needs you, Gio. Don't leave her. Not yet."

—0—

I was still troubled and confused driving my old van, when I realized I hadn't turn on the ring volume of my cellphone since I returned from the Hartleys. I noticed a list of several missed calls. They were all from Beth. Just as if on cue, the phone started ringing.

"Yes, Marc?" I recognized his voice.

"We must meet tonight at your deli."

"No problem. I'll call the rest of the—"

"No, just you and me."

"Did you find something?" I asked and drove further into the streets of Queens.

Instead of answering my question, he said.

"I don't think I told you I had a friend at the Federal Medic Association."

"No."

"Well, I do" he said. "I asked for some old records and I finally got them faxed today. You're going to love this… I just need to tie some knots but I'm pretty sure know the reason—"

The other line was ringing. I was certain it was Beth.

"Marc! Marc!" I interrupted him. "Gotta hang up now. I'm on my way home. Call me and we'll arrange a meeting. Bye."

I got the other line and was taken aback at Beth's voice. I could barely understand the words coming through the line.

"Beth. What's going on? What's happening?"

"I—" she started. "I was at your home—"

"You 'were'? What?!" I interrupted and hit the break by mistake almost causing an accident. "You left the house alone?"

"I asked a neighbor to get me to a taxi. I had to leave." She said. "A note got slipped under the door. Another one. Another note!"

"What does it say? Where are you?"

"I'm at the Deli now. I just couldn't stay there. I've never been this scared in my life, Gio. I came immediately. I couldn't take it. I've been calling you all morning."

"What does the note say?"

She paused a moment.

" 'Today, you are next'. Gio, it says I'm next!" She said. "Is the same person. It's the same. I don't know what to do."

"I need you to stay in the deli. I am on my way." I ordered "Please put Maurizo on the phone. Don't leave the backroom. Wait for me right there, Beth."

I gave a few instructions to Maurizo and hit the gas. The transit was heavy and I struggled through side streets and congested main streets until I found myself crossing the Queensboro bridge. Then, I dialed Maurizo cellphone.

"How is Beth doing? Anything unusual at the deli?"

"Nothing so far."

I breathed. But my sensation of peace didn't last for long.

"Is it Joe? Hello Joe" a familiar voice sang through the line —it was Amanda.

"Maurizo, where the fuck are you?"

"Why, I'm at MODE" He said, nonchalant.

My heart skipped a beat.

"What the hell are you doing at MODE?!"

"I was making a delivery in the building and just decided to drop by to say hi to _la mia ragazza—_"

I cursed aloud and gave a quick turn avoiding the nearest traffic light, heading to the Deli through a side street at full speed. He spoke again.

"What's wrong with you, Gio?! I just came for a few minutes. There's nothing to worry about."

"S_ei_ _pazzo?_!" I shouted through the line "You left Beth alone!"

"Hey, _Calmati_! Okay? _Calmati_… It was just a second. But I couldn't ignore this delivery. Its huge man! I think we got covered this week's expenses. Not that you're caring for the business anymore, anyway."

"What the heck! I told you not to leave the place. Not to accept any orders… Any fucking orders!"

"_Dai! Dai!_ _Calma!_ This was a quick one. Couldn't miss the opportunity. An urgent call by a special person, don't be paranoid. _È la ragazza _you used to like so much..._ la paffuta_, the one that comes sometimes to those late meetings" He paused a second as if reading a note "Betty Suarez."

My heart jumped uneasy, almost terrified. I closed the mobile and sped to the deli. I was thankful I was only a few blocks away.

The shadow.

"Damn!"

I maneuvered through the infinite sea of cars and ended up stuck in a traffic jam. I turned off the engine, jumped out of the van and left it there, in the middle of the street.

I ran with all my strength.

"Pietro" I called my detective friend and I managed to say through my heavy breathing, "I need a favor. Please don't say no."

"What is it? What's going on?" his voice lowered down. He probably was at the police station.

I asked him to go to the Deli immediately.

"Are you insane?" he said. "I can't mobilize the force just like that. How can you be so sure the killer is going to show up?"

"I just know" I was sweating, running like a madman through the sidewalk, breaking between the hoards of people, stirring the curiosity of the bystanders.

"Okay," he finally agreed, "give me fifteen minutes. I'll go there myself."

I hadn't closed the phone when I started wondering if it'd been a mistake to call Pietro. The killer could be anybody. Anyone of us. I didn't trust Pietro, Marc or even Maurizo. I only trusted myself and her. Only her.

Something wasn't right. Something didn't fit right. Why would Betty call the Deli for such an order? She wasn't even in Manhattan. She wasn't inside the Meade building. She was sleeping, resting back in Queens.

The shadow that night in the back alley.

All I knew was that Beth was in danger, her smile, her hair, the heart shaped mark on her face —wait for me. Please, wait for me.

I threw myself to the front door of Gio's Deli. It was locked from the inside, the "Closed" sign plastered against the glass. My trembling hands searched for the keys and opened the lock with some difficulty.

I heard a loud female cry and I bolted to the back room.

What I saw froze my veins. Nothing of what I was expecting to see.

Betty Suarez was lying prone on the floor, unstoppable blood streams emanated from her body and, knelt beside her, clutching her deadly silvery knife in her hands, was Elizabeth Leigh.

_The final chapter comes next_

Notes:

_Sei_ _pazzo! = _Are you out of your mind?!

_Calmati!_ = calm down.

_Dai!_ _Calma_! = Come on! Easy!

_La ragazza, la paffuta_ = the chick, the chubby girl


	19. Chapter 18

**BREAKDOWN**

—Chapter XVIII—

The sight in front of me was horrifying. There she was, the woman I loved, kneeling on the floor… those beautiful hands covered with blood.

"No! I did it. Don't come any closer" Beth cried. She was paled face bathed in her many freckles, dark circles around her eyes, her reddish hair falling loosely, like fire, down her back.

But then, there was Betty, motionless on the floor, her hair carefully combed and held tightly by a golden pin. She wore a beautiful red dress. She was looking so pretty I would have sworn she was just sleeping. But she was wearing my jacket, the jacket that I lost one night and it was stained with blood, her own blood.

Beth looked back at her. She saw me looking at her.

"I'm sorry" she whispered in delirium, throwing the knife to the floor. "I'm so sorry. You—you loved her."

I stood frozen an instant, without a single clue of what to do, my mind going through tons of unanswered questions. 'Beth was… Beth had been the killer all this time. She'd lied to me. She'd used me.'

And still—

"No!" I yelled and cursed aloud in despair.

And still, I wanted to protect her.

"I've ruined everything" she said, tears falling down her clear eyes. Just like the first time I met her. But these tears weren't for Matt or her past. They were for me, for us, for what she was losing. "Everything..."

My phone rang in my pocket. I took it half dreaming still looking at Beth in disbelief. Marc's overexcited voice traveled through my numbed mind.

"I figured out everything, Gio. It's Elizabeth" he said, shooting a dozen words per second. "She was pregnant with Matt when she was younger. They killed the baby and she wants revenge. She was always my suspect from the start! Never believed a word she said. I knew it! Always trying to outsmart everyone, the bastard! Don't go anywhere near her, you hear me? I'll get Amanda. We must join as soon—"

My voice turned into an iceberg when I spoke.

"I'm busy, Marc. Call me later."

"But—"

I hanged up and placed the phone back inside my pocket.

One of Betty's arms twitched and Beth gasped, probably realizing what she had done. She turned Betty around and pressed her hands against Betty's stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.

"She's alive" I said but did nothing. I stood there watching the scene as if I wasn't living it.

Then I recalled the nightmares. And I remembered living that moment many times before. Then I understood. I didn't care for Betty. I didn't care she was the victim. I didn't care for that woman lying on the floor, all bloody, almost dying. I didn't even care her name was Betty Suarez, a human being, my friend, the woman I used to love.

My heart grew cold and heavy, like stone.

Pietro. The police was coming any minute.

"She's alive" I repeated, noticing my favorite butcher's knife lying carelessly on the floor, near my feet, tempting me. I also knew Matt Hartley's gun was locked in the drawer of my desk. What to do? Which was quicker? Which was best?

Even to this day I still wonder how all my moral precepts, which I always believed were solid and profound, shattered at once inside me. At that moment, standing perplexed like that, trying to decide what was going to be my next move, I realized I didn't mind becoming a murderer for her.

I didn't care for punishment or death or the meaning of right or wrong. All I could think was that Betty would testify against Beth. She was the enemy and must be put into silence.

A primeval instinct of survival.

"No! No! You're not a killer!" Beth yelled in horror looking up through my eyes, guessing my thoughts "Call 911!"

She kept speaking to me but my ears were shut.

In a second, I studied all the ways I could think of how to clean the place. My mind raced blasted by million murderous thoughts pouring inside of me at once. How to hide her body? How to disappear the weapon? How to fool the police? I wanted to be her accomplice. I wanted to save her.

"She'll die if you don't call now" she yelled and took me out of my reverie. "Gio!"

"Gio!" Maurizo appeared at the backroom door. He was standing tall, all sweaty and distressed. He jumped back at the scene in front of his eyes "What the hell—"

He stood there, looking back at us in shock.

"Ambulance!" Beth ordered him "Call an ambulance. Now!"

Maurizo put both his hands on his head, yelled something in Italian and ran towards the phone while I stood there unable to know what to say or do.

The ambulance and the police came quicker than I would have wished for. The paramedics carried Betty away. She was going to live.

Beth hugged me desperately and I held her into the ephemeral safety my arms. Her guilty, bloody hands stained my clothes as she clang to me, devouring every moment that could be our last.

She kept crying, the woman that rarely cried, kept apologizing against my shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry" she repeated.

I was sorry too. I was sorry it was over; sorry that I found her there; sorry I couldn't find about it sooner; sorry I couldn't help her. It'd been so surreal. My heart pains me every time I remember those minutes I almost turned into a murderer.

"At least you're safe" she whispered quietly right before the police pulled her out of our embrace.

"You're not alone" I managed to say to her before she was taken from me. "You still have me."

I walked to my friend Pietro and agreed to make a declaration.

_Everything will be explained on the epilogue_

…_hopefully_


	20. several months later

**BREAKDOWN**

—The Finale—

_Several months later…_

"Finally" said Maurizo.

"You can fix about everything, eh, sexy?" said Amanda and slapped his butt.

"I do my best." He finished adjusting the video image on the TV screen and pushed the forward button. "_Eccolo!_ There! Look!! I finally got the recorder to work the tapes and… that's me and you, gorgeous… ah! And there's Beth and there's the rest of us —you looking stunning as always, dear— and there's Betty. It's her turn to declare now."

He hit the play button and the image of the courtroom filled the screen.

"I do look gorgeous, don't I? Oh dear Lord! Look at Beth!" Amanda said, getting closer to the TV. "She's so scary! The way she looks at Betty! It's like she could chew her alive and eat her like a big fat tamale filled with pork meat."

"Well… she always looked like a big fat tamale, anyway" added Marc.

"Hey! I'm right here!" she said, coming from inside the deli from the backroom, a large sandwich in her hands. "Watch your mouth!"

"No. You watch yours!" responded Marc. "You're eating like a famished cow. It's disgusting."

"Silence, for Christ's sake!" protested Pietro. "I'm trying to listen."

"Come on, sit here" I said and put my hand out for her to hold. "Are you sure you can watch this? How are you feeling today?"

She sat by my side and dared to rest her head on my shoulders.

"I'm much better, now" she smiled and pretended to scold me. "I'm not a baby, so stop worrying about me so much, okay?"

Pietro came with a couple of beer bottles from the fridge and also sat by our side.

"A twisted one, this girl" he said, staring at the screen. "One of our smartest criminals, I tell you. How she found out that Matt picked up the candidates from women he'd slept with and how she killed them one by one. To think I got a serial killer case on my first assignment… Wow! Am I lucky or what?"

I glared at him. Lucky? I was there every single day of the trial. I head her confess how she took each life in her hands, how she saw them die slowly in front of her. No, it wasn't lucky. It was nauseating.

"Okay, fine. But lets at least admit she was a freaking nutjob" he continued after sipping from his beer. "She used all means: she stabbed them, she shot them, she tried to poison them… and she almost got away with it."

"But the Detective Squad got her!" beamed Amanda.

"She got discovered by her own mistakes" said Maurizo. "She wasn't as clever as you all think."

"Maybe she wanted to get caught. I've heard cases like those. And the truth was always in front of us." said Pietro. "She always stole and wore a piece of jewelry or accessory from the victim or the potential victim she was stalking: a watch, a pair of earrings, a bracelet, even shoes... something insignificant that we would overlook. But it was there. Maybe she wanted us to stop her. I don't know."

I looked up and checked the recording images. I have to admit was somewhat disturbing to see them, even after all these months. It'd been a short but painful trial. Big money pouring from both parties: the Hartleys and the Meades clashing in court. But she had no choice but to pledge guilty. It was a wise move but it didn't prevent the heavy weight of the law fall upon her. At least I was glad there was no death penalty in the state of New York.

I also knew she didn't keep those little "treasures" to give leads to the police. She confessed that she'd wanted to become those women. How she sometimes envied the victims and tried to absorb something from their personalities. It started as a little game, trying make Matt Hartley look up to her the way he looked at them, to make him love her back. Then it became a hobby and she couldn't control herself. Like a savage hunter collects trophies of their preys, she felt the need to have a keepsake from each of the victims.

"And the motives!" continued Pietro. "You all thought it was a scheme to take over MODE when it was nothing but a crime of passion. She killed those girls, out of jealousy" Pietro continued. "But one day she got fed up with Mr. Hartley Jr. She went to the deli, picked that butcher's knife that was always hanging around and killed the young Hartley for revenge."

"It's freaky. How Matt was obsessed with serial killers" Amanda said. "I bet he never thought he was going be assassinated by one."

She stared at her ipod for a second, turned it off and threw it inside her purse. That was the last time we heard of her detective novels.

"It is really a sad story, especially for the Hartleys. Poor rich people. The mother is in a mental clinic now. The poison severed her nervous system and they say she won't recover anytime soon."

I couldn't help but feel sad for Mrs. Hartley. I remembered how many times Beth thought she was the one behind the killings and how she ended up being nothing but a hopeless victim.

"She was so close to us, she could have killed us anytime." Amanda jumped. "My hair just gets spooky. Look! Goosebumps!"

Maurizo came to her and stroke her arms.

"Better now?" he said and then shook his head. "She was mostly after the Hartleys wasn't she? But as soon as she got tired of that guy, Matt, she got infatuated with my cousin, Gio. Giving him those heavy sleeping pills, breaking into the deli and stalking him and all that stuff she did while he was sleeping… now, that is creepy! I'm not staying in this deli late at night, ever again, even if it pays me a million."

"_Fifone!_" Amanda giggled, practicing her Italian.

"Hells yeah, I am a coward! And I'm also pretty damn sure she was planning to kill him, too. Yeah, probably when she found out he was drooling for another chick. At least she didn't put poison in the pills. This is like a horror movie, I tell you. American women surely are scary."

"So you see… behave well or else" Amanda teased him.

"_Puoi scommetterci_!" he said and kissed her on the lips.

"Please, stop with the telenovela or I'm going to puke!" Marc said and then added: "The scariest part is I'm sure Wilhelmina knew all this time she was the one. She didn't even care to expose us to the danger of her company as long as she got what she wanted first."

My thoughts drifted to the fate of my poor friend, Daniel Meade. I didn't envy his fortune, I pitied the man. To had lived all his life on a stalk of piled lies. He was still sorting his relationship with his mother.

"Damn it!" Marc continued and threw himself in the nearest chair. "I can't believe she was right in front of our noses all this time. Honestly, I can't believe it. I was so certain it was Beth up until the last minute. I couldn't expect less from the 'Lover boy' over there, but how I got fooled so easily?!"

"Aw, don't feel bad, Marc. Who would have known?" Amanda said always trying to sound smart. "Betty was always so harmless. And Beth was so obvious, maybe she was like…like… the red-hairing."

"_Ah, Bella mia_," Maurizo pretended to eat her nose. "You mean red-herring."

She giggled again. "Whatever."

They were right. How easily Betty played all of us! She used us to see how far we could go in the investigation. To be sure we weren't in the right lead. Keeping us close to her surveying eye, misleading us, watching every move we made.

Matt Hartley had always being of weak character and could never stand up properly against his family decisions. Not even back when he was in love with his cousin Beth and his mother poured all those lies into his head that made him despise women and all they represented, turning him into a hopeless sex addict.

And Matt was not different with Betty. His parents were both against their relationship. Betty was desperate and she believed she had to take matters in her hands so she could finally live her happily-ever-after fantasy.

First, she took care of Mr. Hartley. And for that she befriended Manolo. Poor Manolo, probably had a crush on her since high school. She seduced him and made him reprogram the surveillance cameras, also to mess with the elevators system. He probably couldn't take the secret anymore and was about to declare the truth to the police but she ended his life pushing him down the East River.

With Manolo out of the security department she had to keep the position vacant until she finished the job. She picked a day and, while having breakfast with Matt, she told him she was going to get some files so they could discuss before the meeting. She went to his office and got the little gun, shot Mr. Hartley and then put back the weapon in Matt's safebox.

She was probably thinking nobody would look inside it until she could get rid of the weapon. She didn't count that Claire was going to find the body so quickly or that police was going to show up immediately. She didn't count with the fact her boyfriend, Matt, was going to notice the weapon was tampered even before the police arrived and was going to react in such panic. Much less that he was going to ask Beth to hide the weapon for him.

Beth knew the police could register her belongings, her desk and the apartment so she unloaded the weapon through me and finally kept it in my van. But she could never find a moment to be alone and get the weapon back without me noticing her. One day Matt asked it back but she had to admit she didn't have it with her. That's the day I saw them arguing in the office.

After Mr. Hartley was out of the picture it was Mrs. Hartley's turn. Betty's former plan with the elevator failed. So she changed her tactic. She'd learned a lot from Matt's books about poison and weapons. So all she had to do is pour some solution inside Mrs. Hartley's champagne at her engagement party and it was going to be like a walk in the park. She even had time to break into the Deli. Not that it was the first time she ever did that.

Betty probably despised Beth more intensively than he'd hated any of the other women. She hated her for her past with Matt. That must be when she started sending those notes to her, at her old apartment then, finally, at mine. She'd probably wished for a perfect moment to kill her. But that day never came, she miscalculated that Beth was going to ask me for protection, I was always by her side. Except that day she decided to finally get rid of her. I should've known better.

Thankfully, Beth always carried her knife with her and she could defend herself against Betty. She pledged self-defense and she wasn't charged. I have many times apologized to her for misunderstanding her, and for leaving her alone that day. But I will never stop blaming myself for putting Beth in danger. When Betty suspected Beth and I were an item, she lost it. She tricked me, lured Maurizo out of the Deli and took the chance to put an end to the only one that stood between me and her. Because she realized, far too late, that I was the one she loved.

The one she loved or the one she hated?

I recalled the bloody jacket on her. I'd lied to her too and she knew it. She'd seen us both in the archive room. Was Maurizo right? Was she going to eliminate me the same way she did with Matt?

I had a final conversation with Betty while she was in a small confinement at the court hall waiting to be sentenced. That was the last time I saw her. Even with all the legal help from the Meades Betty Suarez couldn't avoid the fate of spending the rest of her life in prison.

Even though her actions turned her against the world, her family, her friends, society... I couldn't help but empathize with her. Because I'd finally understood what was inside the psyche and the heart of a murderous mind.

I knew now how fragile was the divide between the good and the evil. How you could break inside and loose your soul. My old Betty had disappeared years ago and transformed into something else. Not only her clothes, her lifestyle, her whole self became another. She was no longer the simple girl from Queens, the only one I used to trust, the one who couldn't tell a lie, tricked us and fooled us right into our faces, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

A Betty able to frame her best friend, Daniel, without blinking an eye; who was able to date a guy just to force him to work for her evil schemes; someone who lied, killed and manipulated to her own will, all in the name of love.

I was glad it was all over.

"So... doesn't this mess make you like… a real millionaire now?" Marc turned his obnoxious face to Beth.

"Even if my uncle or cousin hadn't died," said the woman by my side, her strong red curls falling over her shoulders and mine, "the family properties would have been disposed the same as they are now. I'm hardly any richer than I was at the beginning of all this."

She then looked at me and her fingers caressed my well trimmed beard. "Well, maybe I am."

Her grey eyes weren't tormented or cold anymore, they were smiling. She had found her peace.

I also have found my own peace: no more nightmares, no more yearning for an impossible love.

"I guess I should thank you" said Pietro. "If you wouldn't have stopped her that day here at the deli, she'd have gotten away with it. It scared the hell out of me when I saw my sister's silver brooch in her possessions. I think she was going to find her and finish the job she started that awful night."

The shadow.

I never got the chance to tell Pietro that I was the one who gave her the hint that Jenny was moving to Brooklyn with some family. She told me herself she was going to 'pay her a visit'. I was really glad Betty was behind bars and Jenny was safe.

"By the way" asked Beth. "How are they?"

"She's fine. If everything keeps going normal, she's gonna be due next month."

"I'm so glad we'll be back in time to see the baby" Beth's eyes sparkled. "Pietro, I'll make sure that your sister and the boy are always being taken care of. I promise."

It was sad and somewhat ironic that the last member of the Hartley dynasty wasn't going to be born between silk sheets in a golden cradle.

Pietro blushed. He was a proud man but he was also thankful for her offer.

"Wait a minute, _Cugi_" Maurizo complained. "Hold it! Are you going somewhere?"

"Actually, yes. I'm going to take some vacation in Seattle."

"There you go again!" Maurizo scratched his head. "I'm always alone in this place!"

I was more than confident Maurizo would handle the business better than me. He'd been doing a pretty fine job without me, anyway. I considered selling my part of the business to him; let him take over so I can start a new life, fresh and free; to find renewed dreams of my own. I was going to engage in another self-discovery trip. This time I wasn't going to travel alone.

I looked at the skinny freckled redhead sitting by my side. Her beautiful delicate hands over mine, that seductive spot caressing her chin in the shape of a heart —I love you.

Maybe Betty's change made her a monster. But sometimes change was good. A change of plan. A change of dreams. A change of heart.

There were so many new things to me, these days. But it was all right. More than right, it was perfect.

LA FINE

_Notes: Ah, come on. The biggest hint was always in the dedicatory. You shouldn't expect any less from a Foxy-fic. :D_

_Fifone! _= Coward

_Puoi scommetterci = _You bet!

_La fine_ = The end


End file.
